En Verano
by Serena La Fay
Summary: A young woman comes of age after meeting the team in Mexico and spending her summer vacation with them.    are not my stories i am only posting this because its easier to read on some computers or ipads and ipod touch
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

I watched him leave but I didn't cry. He'd been working up to it for three months. Since spring break. He'd gone to the Florida Keys and I'd stay home and I was not really sure what had happened there, but he'd been distant since.

I don't know why he got pissed when he left. Like he needed it to be bad between us in order to really believe it was over. Like he wanted an ugly breakup so he couldn't change his mind later.

So he couldn't back out on Ashley Hampton. I wondered how many people knew she was pregnant. I wondered if anyone knew her baby was Jackson's and not Mitch Stadler's. Well, I knew. And I was so calm about it. As I stood there, knowing he'd ruined his life. He was eighteen a month ago. The baby was due in six. And he still…even as he drove away…had never told me he'd slept with Ashley. She had rung me the prior week and told me she was pregnant, by Jackson, that he wasn't going to tell me but that she couldn't live with it anymore.

Even then I'd been calm.

"Okay," I'd said. "Thanks for calling."

It didn't mean much. The way I looked at it was Mexico vs. France. I'd broken up with Jackson Gauthier. I would be spending the summer at the villa with my family rather than in Paris with his. My brothers were 25 and 29 that summer, one finishing law school, one in the middle of med school. So it would be my mother, who was a stranger to me, but…a nice stranger, and my father, who really didn't care for me at all. The only sentiment he wasted on me was a sort of impatient exasperation. I didn't really know him either. Our maid and nanny, Milagros, or Millie, had retired last month. I would be in Mexico for three months, virtually alone.

I think my mother must have had a steamy affair in Mexico when she was young, because before she left she dragged me to our family practitioner and got me on Depo-Provera. I knew refusal to go would look like guilt; argument with either of them was futile.

"I don't doubt your values, dear," she had said. "But just in case." So I got a pap and a shot and we went to Mexico.

"For your birthday, we should have a fiesta," my mother said quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Carolyn," my dad cut in. "She'd never want a birthday party with her mother there."

"I wouldn't mind," I said, but was, as usual, ignored.

"You're always forcing yourself on her," he said.

"Well, at least I acknowledge that she's alive."

I sighed and stared out across the clouds as they bickered. The gentle hum of the jet engines was making me drowsy but I was too nauseated to sleep. I closed my eyes, tried valiantly not to, but I couldn't help it…I thought of Jackson.

He was beautiful. And I hadn't slept with him. Not because I was afraid, or wanted to wait, or…He was Christian. Deeply so. 'Sex before marriage is evil' and the whole nine…And I know it wasn't fake. Wasn't a front. He'd opened up to me many times in the warm afternoon light of his bedroom, or the dark of the basement on the leather couch, in the nearly-three years we'd been together, about his faith, about the way he felt in church and the way it seemed the Bible had been written just for him.

Yet he wasn't on fire with the Lord, a tacky evangelist, a Jesus Freak. His faith was beautiful. He'd been deeply religious all his life, took it very seriously and had an unwavering belief unusual in one so young.

So we didn't have sex. We fooled around sometimes, kissing, touching…but it made him feel guilty. Toward the end, before spring break, I went down on him.

But that's it. The Keys with Ashley Hampton, a few beers, and now a baby. For what was probably 30 seconds he couldn't remember or wanted to forget, he had given up everything he believed in, his family's trust, and me…Although I'm not sure how sorry he was about giving me up. I think it was getting old. I felt that way. He did, too, obviously.

He was more beautiful than I was. I knew that and I never pretended not to. He was too good looking. But then he'd have been too good looking for almost anyone. He was captain of the baseball team, starting quarterback on the football team, point guard for our state-champ basketball team. All the girls wanted him and he wanted nothing to do with them. I was 'one of the guys'—always have been. And we grew together. I remember the first time he kissed me. I was 10 feet off the ground. We both were. Neither of us knew what was happening. We were fifteen.

He had curly chestnut/auburn hair cut short and highlighted in the front, giant shoulders, brown eyes, and beautiful, straight teeth, a blinding smile. And he was so, so smart. And shy around all but his closest friends. Everyone at Gaskill Prep wanted to get close to him—girls wanted to be with him, boys wanted to be like him. He was so quiet everyone thought he was conceited, too good to talk to them…But he wasn't. Just shy.

Jackson Pierre Gauthier. I remember I used to just stare at him forever, loving every part of him. I'd wanted to sleep with him but hadn't pressed the issue out of respect for him and now I wished I had. Because I was almost eighteen. Almost a woman. And I was a virgin. And Ashley Hampton was so…It just wasn't right. Our first time was supposed to have been together. To have been phenomenally important. It was supposed to have meant something. And I couldn't imagine ever being close enough to any other person to…Well, I just couldn't imagine it.

Mexico was hot. And it was hot. It was not dry heat, either…a ninety-nine degree blanket of sheer humidity smothered me the moment I stepped off the plane, and I had to throw up immediately.

My parents had arranged for a car from the Villa to fetch us, and our things, and the driver was not Mexican. As I looked around, I saw that almost no one was Mexican. Tourists, all of them. Rich Americans. Pigs, like my family.

This driver…he climbed out. He was no Mexican, and he was no chauffeur, either. His eyes were beautiful, strange…green…or blue….or both. His hair was probably curly, cut too short to tell, brown with sandy highlights from the unrelenting sun. I stared unabashedly as he bent to load our bags into the shiny silver Lexus. His boxers were white, peeking out with some golden skin between the hem of the shirt and the waist of his pants. He wore blue jeans, baggy-ish, and a white cotton shirt that buttoned up the front, saying "Hermosa Beach Villa" across the back in an arc. I could scarcely breathe looking at him, the way he moved, the way the muscles in his arms played against one another as he grunted and heaved all our shit into the trunk. As he turned to face us, to get the doors for us, I read an embroidered patch on his breast pocket: 'Leon.'


	2. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

He pulled out a chair and spun it, straddling it with his arms folded on its back. He held two beers and handed me one across the table.

"So," he said, and I smiled slowly, sitting up straight, breathing shallow, unable to take my eyes off of him. There was something about him…A danger. An edge. And an inherent sweetness, too. The way he looked at me was intense and predatory, and yet, when he smiled, it was gone, and he looked like a drunk goof.

"Sooo," I said slowly, and he laughed. "Leon."

"Yeah! You remember me."

"Yes," I said, and swallowed, scanning the room again for my parents before bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a drink. It was disgusting, tasted like piss, but I wanted him to think I was cool, not a 17-year-old tit baby rich girl, and I kept a straight face. "You work here?"

"Mmm, and live here," he said. "In four-oh-five. Couple houses down from you."

"You do?" I couldn't hide my surprise.

"Yeah, with some friends," he said. Some girls standing in a cluster at the bar were looking at him, in his white tank top and blue work pants, at the wallet chain and the black lug-sole shoes. They weren't admiring him, they were being snobs. He noticed it too, and tipped his beer at them. "I don't really hang out with anyone else here."

"No," I said. "I don't either. I haven't been here since I was a kid."

"Still are a kid," he said, and I cocked my head, wondering what he wanted with me. If this was a pickup or if he just wanted someone to talk to. "What are you, fifteen? Sixteen?" I didn't answer him, just stared at him with wry indifference. "Anyway, just thought I'd let you know that your parents are busy on the beach. And they're sauced. I wouldn't wait for them, I doubt they're coming." Now I was pissed. My parents were busy on the beach? _What?_Christ. And who did he think he was, anyway? Did he think this was funny? He sure had a big enough smile on his face…My discomfort was hilarious to him, and he was just watching me with those cool green eyes and pissing me off and turning me on.

"I'm leaving," I said, and he nodded slowly.

"Me too. I'll walk you home."

"No," I said, "I'm fine."

"I have to pass your house to get to mine," he said. "It wasn't an offer. You don't have a choice."

I slammed the beer down on the table, grabbed my little handbag, and took off, stalked out through the crowd, and the group of girls followed me with their eyes all the way, and Leon, too, as he was right on my heels.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said. I ignored him, kicking my pace up a notch. "Come on, don't be like that. I'm sorry I was a punk. Come on." I stopped but didn't turn to face him, and I felt his hands on my waist. "Come on. What're you gonna do, go home and sit in that big house all alone? Be pissed at me?" Honestly, I didn't know what I planned to do. Probably something along those lines. "Come back to my place. We've got movies, PS2, we're grillin' out, got some real music on. All kindsa shit to do."

"Why are you stalking me?" I asked.

"Stalking you? You can be a bitch, you know that? I buy you a beer, tip you off so you don't have to sit by yourself drinking ice water for two hours, and invite you to my place. I'm not stalking you, girl. I'm bein' a nice guy."

"Okay, why, then. Why are you bein' a nice guy." I slapped his hands off my waist and turned around to meet his gaze.

"Because," he said. "You're blue. And you're not like the other ones."

"Other…?"

"Rich bitches. The little daddies' girls that come around this place, their heads up their asses."

"I'm not?"

"No, you're not."

"And how do you know that?" I countered.

"Because," he said, and a slow, cocky grin spread across his face like butter. "I've been working here two months and you're the first one to check out my ass while I'm loadin' your luggage." I rolled my eyes, embarrassed and amused in unison. He laughed and it was contagious. "And because of the scars on your knuckles," he continued, taking one of my hands in both of his and running his thumbs over the fine silver lines. "Whose ass you been kickin'?"

"No one's," I said, pulling the hand back. "That was a long time ago." Eighth grade. Thought I was tough shit. Got kicked out of school. Dad's hated me since.

"So you want to come?"

"No," I said. "I'm tired still. I'm going to bed. But I'll see you around." He nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

"No, really. I'm just so tired. Come by tomorrow if you want."

"Yeah, all right," he said. "All right. Later." And he continued on down the street. There was a tattoo of an Indian chief's head on his right arm, encircled by serpents and vines, and it glinted in the streetlight as he walked away.

"Bye," I said softly, and went inside. I didn't even change. Flopped down on the bed in my dress and fell instantly asleep with Leon on the brain.

When I woke, it was eleven a.m. I had not slept that late since…since…I had never slept that late. Again, the house was quiet. And again, a note on the dresser: "Gone golfing, back by dinner. Money on the kitchen countertop. Have fun."

It was so hot. It was so goddamn hot. I changed into a sundress and it wasn't enough. There was no AC, and I was sure I was dying. My mouth was spitless and my skin was wet. My hair stuck to me all over. I needed it to be cut. Now.

I hunted around for a scissors, found one in the bathroom on the vanity, and watched in the mirror as I cut about a foot off my hair. Cut it so it was to my angelbones only, then pulled it back away from my face with a scrunchie and washed all the hair off of me in the bath. Ten minutes out of the bath, sweat had mingled with the water. I was miserable. Since I had grown 'the body,' I had avoided wearing a bathing suit. I wasn't comfortable with the way I looked, with what had happened to me all of a sudden. But I cried uncle that day. Hauled out my simple black one-piece and headed to the Cabana, where there was a giant pool, rafts floating lazily.

The pool was all but empty. In fact, the entire Villa was all but empty. I passed the golf course as I walked down the narrow little street, heard the gentle rush of the ocean. I could have swam there, but it didn't occur to me, and it scared me, sort of…so big…so endless. I could gaze at it forever but I wouldn't swim.

I set my beach bag down on one of the white plastic lawn chairs on the concrete deck of the pool and pulled the sundress up over my head, kicking off my sandals. My whole body felt lighter without the hair, free, cool. I could feel the wind on my back for the first time in years. I was looking at the chipped polish on my toenails as I approached the pool and nearly ran head-on to a dark girl in a white bikini.

"Watch it," she said, and I looked up over my shoulder as she walked away. Not very tall, but with impressive muscle definition in her arms and thighs. Seems I had taken her chair, too; with one foot, she kicked my bag onto the ground, untied the top of her suit, and took it off, stretching out topless on her stomach on the chair. She folded her arms before her and rested her chin on her hands, glaring at me from beneath long black lashes with giant obsidian eyes and a smooth meanness I'd never seen in a woman before.


	3. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

I was squinting. I'd forgotten my sunglasses in the bag. Either suffer or balls it up, and I chose the latter. If this chick had a serious problem…Fighting was like riding a bicycle.

I approached her slowly, picked up my bag, set it down on the chair next to her. I dug to the bottom and put on my shades.

"You new or something?" the other girl asked, in nearly accentless English. I looked at her.

"What?"

"Deaf, too," the girl said, closing her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm new," I said, focusing on her. She seemed nasty, testy. At first glance I'd thought she was Mexican, but as I looked at her now I thought maybe she was Puerto Rican or Dominican or something. "Why?"

"Because no one swims in the pool," she said.

"No?"

"No. That's why I come here."

"They just go in the ocean or what?" I sounded stupid. Three years with Jackson had taken all the edge out of me.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, with a bored yawn. I nodded, walked back to the pool, and stepped in slowly, next to positive she'd kill me if I splashed her. It wasn't long before another girl, tall, thin, with straight dark hair and fine, pretty features, came and moved my bag to the ground again, sitting next to killah chick, who laughed and looked at me.

"What?" the lissome girl asked.

"Nevermind. So what's going on at the house?"

I had no choice but to eavesdrop. They were five feet from my head.

"Nothing."

"Not a damn thing, huh?"

"No. Everyone's gone."

"Your brother too? He awake already?"

"Yeah, he's awake already. He might come down here later. I don't know. You gonna be here all day?"

"Prob'ly. Get as much action here as I do at home."

"Come on, Letty, that's not fair."

Letty. So this tough bitch was Letty. Sounded like an old-lady-in-a-nursing-home name, not a tough-bitch-at-a-beach-resort.

"I know," she conceded to the other girl's accusation. "I'm just so fucking bored. I think I need to get a job, too. Have a little money that he can't touch so I can go out and entertain myself."

"He would kick your ass."

"He wouldn't have to know, though, would he." It was not a question. Letty fixed the other girl with the same glare I'd received a few moments before. The girl didn't answer. "Would he, Mia," she repeated, and finally the girl sighed.

"No," she said. "I wouldn't tell him."

"A'ight den."

"I'm going for breakfast. Wanna come?"

"No. I'm dog tired. I'ma sleep."

"Okay, then, girl. I'll see you at the party tonight." Mia rose and stretched slowly. She wore a little lacy cami top and no bra, white shorts, and open-toed sandals. Rings on almost every finger and every other toe. My guess was that she was Italian, too dark for anything Anglo, too light for anything ethnic, beautiful either way. Both girls were in such good shape…I felt like a chubby nine-year-old in their company. And as she left, I promised myself I'd lay off the junk food, get myself some new clothes. I wanted to look like them. I wanted to BE them. And I didn't even know them.

And yet, there was something different about them, too. After hearing Letty make Mia promise not to tell…whomever…that she was getting a job, I knew they weren't vacationing there. I knew they weren't with their rich parents. I knew they weren't sisters (she'd said _your_brother, not our). And I was damn sure they hadn't gone to prep schools and college readiness seminars. No one at any of those damn things EVER said 'A'ight den.'

The Letty girl fell asleep as soon as the Mia chick left, and I stayed in the pool until I was pickled all over, then got up and went home, tired again. What was it with me? This heat? It had to be this heat. Three o' clock in the afternoon and I was ready for another fricking nap already. I stripped off my suit and threw on a sundress and some underwear, skipping the bra because it was just too damn hot. I flopped down on the bed and crossed my ankles, my hands behind my head. There was a giant water spot on the ceiling that was kind of shaped like someone's profile, with a big old shnoz, and a…

I dozed off. When I woke, it was eight. I had slept for five hours. The cool cloak of darkness was coming on, and I couldn't have been more happy. The sun was sinking, a giant orange disc flaming in a crimson-colored sky. The ocean was calm, shimmering like a living body in fading shades of blue and red and glittery gold. I stood in the window and stared out, inhaled deeply. What a divinely beautiful place. Down the street at the Cabana there was a mariachi band, and I could hear the guitarristas, could see them in my mind's eye. A strong, salty breeze was coming off the water and it dried the sleepsweat from my skin and put me completely at peace.

I reached to run my fingers through my hair and nearly fainted from shock before remembering that I had cut it earlier. I took a minute to really look at it, put it in a ponytail, and it bounced lightly as I brushed it. I decided I was glad I'd had a tantrum and done away with it.

My father would hate it. I was sure he would.

And then someone was knocking at the door. I frowned, wondering if my parents were downstairs and had ordered…ordered what? _Could_you even order pizza in Mexico? I walked down the stairs and as I did so it was a painfully obvious reminder that I was not wearing a bra. When I swung open the door, my breath stopped with a heavy hitch in my chest.

Leon.

And there was no way I could…I stood there, the crepe-y white dress billowing around me as the breeze wafted in with _his smell._

"Hey," I said, breathless, losing myself immediately in his eyes.

"Hi," he said, and his eyes raked unapologetically across my body. His hands gravitated to my waist and I felt weak. It was the breeze. Or the weather. Or the smell of him. But I knew he was going to kiss me and I let him, soft and sweet at first, just tasting me. My arms felt as though there were no bones in them as I draped them around his neck, and he kissed deeper, harder, and I opened my mouth so he could explore it with his tongue. And he took three steps forward, kicked the door shut behind him.

Crazy. It was crazy.

He was sweaty, his hair drenched, and I knew he'd been working since the crack of dawn in this heat, and there was a slow ease with which he moved, a measured exhaustion, a heavy-lidded mixture of lust and caution. He was paying attention to my response, and I was giving him nothing near to an excuse to stop. His hands moved southward, and he was still pushing forward, until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the sofa and my legs folded beneath me. We fell back and he landed with a natural ease on top of me between my legs, kissing and touching me and I was on fire. He had his mouth on my breast through the sundress, holding my hands in his, and I could feel him pressing hard through his pants.

He kissed along my jawline and pushed my dress up, up and up, over my hips, kissed my stomach and hooked his fingers under the waistline of my panties. It took a few tries before I found my voice and spoke.

"No," I said. He stopped immediately.

"No?"

"No," I said. "I'm not going to sleep with you."

"Really?" he asked, and I nodded. He was silent a moment, staring at me. Then that cocky self-assurance returned to his face with a smile. "Oh, well." He laughed. "Doesn't hurt to try." I smiled too, pulled him back down to my face and kissed him. He buried his face in my chest then, breathing hard, willing himself to calm down. When the heat of the moment had passed, he just lay there on me, his cheek on my collarbone, and played with my fingers. "Will you come over to our place tonight?" he asked, his voice soft and harmless. I could feel in the slackness of his body how tired he was.

"Sure," I said, nodding.

"Can we go now? I'm jonesin' for a beer."

"Sure," I said. "Just let me change."

"Aw, don't do that," he said, cupping one of my breasts softly in his hand. A shudder tore through me involuntarily.

"Yeah," I chuckled breathily. "I think I'd better."

"Vince told me what Leon said to you at the party. He went about it in an asshole way, but his intentions are good. He loves you and he thinks he's no good for you. Poor bastard. He'll get his head out of his ass, though. I have faith in him."

"Where are they now?" I asked, sinking into an armchair.

"I was gonna get drunk," she said, "But then I decided to call you. So now I'm just gonna finish this beer and then I'm gonna make you a blonde."

I snorted.

"You're gonna what?"

"I got a kit. Earlier. I was lookin' at your highlights at the party and I think your hair would be great blonde."

"All of it?"

Letty looked at the box. "It's a chunking kit. So some would be blonde and some would be brown. But not stripes or anything. And I got auburn dye for mine. So it will be reddish-black."

"Letty. There's no such thing as reddish black."

"You read it." She tossed me both boxes, and I perused them briefly, shaking my head.

"I don't think it's a good idea. Either one of 'em."

"Aw, c'mon. Have a few beers."

So, a few beers later, I was all but blonde, and Letty's hair was reddish black. Very dark brown with a reddish hue. It made her eyes look huge and inky, her skin dark. She had an angry, exotic beauty that I was incredibly envious of.

I stood a long while in front of the mirror and looked at my hair and realized that I liked it. It wasn't a cheesy, bimbo blonde and it did look good with my eyes. I thought I had lost probably twenty pounds. I did not recognize myself. I was definitely not Jackson's Izzie anymore.

"Where did everyone go?" I asked again, walking back into the living room and sitting beside Letty.

"Out. Dom's not with the other three. He had to run...Somewhere. I don't know where. Oh. He had to run to see Torlone. Out to dinner with Torlone. And Vince and Mia and Leon went to dinner and then bars."

"And you stayed home?"

"I haven't been feeling so good," she said. "Been tired. And Dom doesn't want me within fifty yards of Torlone anyway. I'm a fucking embarassment, you know."

"Oh, that's right," I chuckled. "You cracked him so hard across the face."

She laughed with me.

"Asshole deserved it. What time is it?"

I looked at the clock.

"Twelve."

"Sonofabitch!" she exclaimed, and I jumped at the unexpected outburst. "He said he was gonna be home at ten. The fuck am I supposed to do NOW?"

I felt a stab of fear in the pit of my stomach. He was two hours late home from a date with the Mob. The fuck _were_we supposed to do now?

We put a movie in and were quiet. Quite sobered by concern, we watched the stupid comedy flick. But Letty didn't stay quiet for long. She became pissy and agitated, drumming nail-less fingers on the arm of the couch.

"He is so dead when he gets home," she said, and I didn't doubt her for a second.

The movied ended and we started another. I heard Dom's voice in my mind: _You are so beautiful, Isabel._My brain played wretched tricks on me. I had seen the movie "Casino." My head was fucking with me in a bad way.

Intermittent recollections of my Xtasy-enriched moments under Dom's ministrations freckled the morbid stretch of nightmarish horror-flick material my mind's eye was conjuring.

I saw him sitting at the bar in the lounge in Mexico City, his tie undone, drunk and exhausted. I saw him sitting in the sand at the beach in cargos and a black tee-shirt. I saw him squatting at the side of my bed, and then kneeling between my legs. I heard my shaking voice as I told him I loved him, and felt his arms around me as I cried.

"Where the fuck _is_he?" Letty fumed. My sentiments exactly. As if on cue, the front door creaked open and he lumbered through. He glanced at me, and then at Letty, and laughed.

"Hi."

I gaped at him, and it took even Letty a moment to find her tongue.

"Where the fuck were you?" she demanded, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest.

Dom swallowed, struggling to sober under her glare.

"I was out with Torlone!"

Drunk within an inch of his life. He sounded like a kindergartener defending a Crayola masterpiece on the white carpeting.

"'I was out with Torlone,'" Letty mimicked, exaggeratedly. "Fuck that. You were supposed to be home at ten o' clock. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Dom lifted his wrist to just under his nose and squinted at his watch.

"Bout three, I think."

"About three. You don't say." Letty rose and crossed the room, standing directly before him. His lids were so heavy that his eyes were almost closed, and he scanned her battle stance lazily.

"Shit," he laughed in the face of her anger. "I'm gonna need a beer for this one."

"The _last_fucking thing you need is a beer. The fuck were you DOing. You smell like a woman."

He flashed a cocky grin.

"'Least one of us does."

"Oh, you are SO not in a position to be making fun of me right now." She took a step closer, scrutinizing. "Your lips look a little rosy, Dom."

"Chapped," he said.

Letty raised an eyebrow. "Chapped?"

He nodded, sucking both of said lips into his mouth and releasing them with a comical 'pop'.

"Yup. Chapped."

"You are so full of shit sometimes it is unbelievable."

"Got something to say to me, Letty? Or you wanna just hit me and get it over with."

"What was her name, Dom?" Letty was unrelenting in her pursuit of the awful truth. I had to wonder why she wanted to know the particulars. I sure as hell didn't.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he sighed. "Can I get a beer please?"

"You need a beer like you need a bullet in the brain," Letty spat, and then paused, as if reconsidering the validity of that analogy. She shook her head. "Go sit down."

"I'm thirsty."

I loved the way his mouth formed the word 'thirsty,' and felt guilty in doing so.

Letty stalked to the kitchen, reached into the fridge, and pulled out a plastic bottled water. She held it up for his approval, and when he nodded, she wound up and fired it at him, full-hilt. The water hit him square in the gut and the air rushed out of him in a shocked hiss. He backpedaled to absorb the blow and lost his balance, landing on his ass with an impressive crash.

"You fuckin' bitch," he slurred, doubled over, and I rose to leave but couldn't, standing there frozen.

"You are drunk as shit," Letty said, coming to stand over him, and he chuckled.

"Yah."

"It's not funny. I thought you were dead."

Dom shook his head, struggling to his feet.

"No such luck."

"Nice, Dom."

"Can I get that beer now?"

"Why don't you get the fuck out, huh? Why don't you just get the fuck out. Go out and drink yourself to death, if that's what you wanna do. Then I don't have to watch it. I'm expecting company anyway."

"Oh, yeah?" He stepped toward her, and she retreated.

"Yeah."

"Who might that be?"

"Abe," she said. I was torn between letting Letty get her revenge and telling Dom that she was fucking with him. I sat cross-legged in the armchair and pretended to read the newspaper.

"Abe who?"

"Cortez," she said, flippantly defiant and foolishly fearless.

"Don't start." Dom waved a hand dismissively.

But she had started already. And showed no sign of stopping.

"You remember him, Dom. Big brown bruiser from the party? The one who had his hands on my ass?"

I watched Dom's whole frame harden, his face dark and stony.

"I told you I don't want him around here anymore."

"Yeah, well. I like him. And I need male companionship. I sure as shit ain' gettin' it from you."

"The FUCK is THAT supposed to mean?" His voice was so deep and so loud that it rumbled in my stomach, and I was a good ten feet away. I jumped, and felt like I was going to cry. I didn't like what Letty was doing to him. At all.

He cocked his head to one side and moved in, his nose nearly touching hers. But she never flinched, and her tone was cold and level as she spoke,

"It means that twice a month just ain't cutting it for me. And this shit," she indicated his present state of being, "Is getting so, so old."

He had his lips pressed together in a tight white line, breathing in short, fast blasts through his nose. He reminded me of a bull. And when he spoke, it was through clenched teeth.

"Twice a month?"

"You heard me."

He nodded shortly and staggered back out of her face, as if he didn't trust himself to be in close proximity.

"So you're gonna have Abe over. Let him pick up my slack. That the plan?"

Letty shrugged. "Why not."

"Oh, that's fucking lovely."

With a black fury, he stormed past her, into the guest room, and slammed the door behind him with an unnerving force.

Letty stood, fists clenched, nose flared, and stared at the closed door. A band of light appeared across the carpet, and shortly thereafter came a loud CRACK! and a frustrated, baritone roar:

"SonofaBITCH!"

Letty approached the door slowly and stood a moment with her ear to it.

"You all right in there?" There came no answer, so she repeated the question. "Shit, Dom, are you all right in there?"

Hesitantly she swung it open, and I craned my neck to see. Dom was sprawled across the floor, holding his face.

"You idiot," Letty sighed. "You split your lip? Let me see."

"I tripped on that fucking thing, hit my face on the bed."

"Let me see," she said.

He spoke softly, but his voice was deep and carried well.

"Shouldn't you be making hors d' ouvres or something? I mean, since you're going to be entertaining."

Letty stood up, wiping her hands on the seat of her pants. "You are such an asshole, you know that?"

Dom grunted his way into a sitting position.

"It's more than twice a month, you know, Letty."

"Who was it tonight? Did you know her name?"

"No," he said dumbly, then quickly added, "But I didn't fuck her, either."

"What a shame. Struck out, huh?"

"Ah, Jesus Christ. No I didn't 'strike out.' I told her I had a girl-"

"Who would be more than happy to finish the job, only it's boring fucking her, she's a little bit ghetto, and you're a man of cultured tastes all of a sudden."

The underwritten meaning of those words struck home immediately, and I looked up. Dom met my gaze for just an instant, then tore his eyes away. _Houston, we have a problem._

"Don't even start," he said, in a low, flat voice. "That's fuckin' cruel."  
><em>Mayday. Mayday.<em>

"It's true, isn't it? I was an innocent little virgin too once, Dom, only you changed that, and now you're sick of me."

He looked absolutely ill.

"I never said I was sick of you."

"Please. When it comes to me, you've got the sex drive of an 80-year-old woman."

Dom went at her then, taking her waist in his hands and lifting her to his eye level, pinning her to the wall with his pelvis, grabbing her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist. He gave a rough thrust upwards and glared down into her face. I had a painfully clear view.

"You wanna fuck, Let? Is that what this is about? You in heat, you fucking hellcat? Need to get laid?"

His words were wracked with anguish, and a broad grin broke out across her face, eyes flashing, unafraid. No fear in her anywhere. Only triumph. I realized with a shudder that this is what she'd wanted...to break him. Make him slave-like and humble. And she seemed to find his violence delicious even as he found it shameful and desperate.

"Hell yeah," she said, licking her full upper lip. "Let's go."

_Let's go is right._ I left, closing the front door softly behind me.


	4. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"What the _fuck_ was that?" I asked my reflection aloud. "Jesus." My makeupless face, my simple white hippie dress, my bare feet with the chipping polish. I felt strange and dizzy, my eyes jumping around the room for something to wear. I hadn't even unpacked everything yet.

I thought about Leon's clothes…California cool. Baggy, sexy. I opened one of my suitcases and disgustedly rifled through, throwing one article of clothing after another onto the hardwood floor. I had nothing but tee-shirts and jeans, and little gingham blouses with capped sleeves with bows on them, sundry sundresses to hide 'the body.'

My jeans were okay, all guys' jeans, loose and faded. They _might_ pass for something cool, with the right shirt…a tight shirt…Leon _liked_ The Body. I wished all my tee-shirts weren't huge, stained, threadbare, brandless.

I kept digging even though I knew there was nothing. There was nothing that wouldn't make me immediately identifiable as the spoiled rich white kid I was. I sighed and put on my favorite pair of jeans—faded almost white, with a rip on the ass, frayed at the waistline and around the ankles. They'd been Jackson's. They hung off my hips, leaving the black lace waistband of my panties completely exposed. It was kind of sexy, I thought, the way my flat belly was so pale against the inky lace.

But a shirt, dammit. Where would I get a tight shirt? And then suddenly I had an idea…

My mother was a rail. A shapeless sapling of a woman who'd never had to count a calorie in her life. 'The Body' had come from my father's side of things. She'd probably kill me, but I tried not to think about it as I slipped into a black bra and ran topless down the stairs to the room she shared every summer with my father.

Lingerie drawer…She had so much lingerie it was obscene. I was careful…Didn't want her to know I'd been in there. I could not believe what I was seeing as I dug…thongs, string bikinis, silk and lace of every shape and color, a party back of flavored condoms…My god. I was traumatized for life.

The little white tanktop, simple, shaped like a man's, stretched over my breasts and clung to the slim contour of my ribcage. I had good arms, too. I looked at the mirror, the way the muscles moved when I ran my hands through my hair. From dancing…From before The Body. But I felt sexy for the first time in three years as I looked at myself. I took my hair out of the ponytail and it fell loose around my shoulders in bouncy dark curls. Yeah. _Yeah, that's right._

Adidas sneakers. Sparkly white eyeshadow and black mascara, a dark mauve lipstick. The black bra was fully visible through the white tank and I liked it. I was trembling as I looked at the girl in the mirror. I had thought she was gone. I had thought Jackson had killed her, made a good, law-abiding ninny of her. But there she was, staring back at me from the mirror, as bad as ever, as hungry…Hungry to fight, to fuck…It was dangerous and I knew it. As an afterthought I grabbed one of the condoms from my mother's drawer and shoved it in my back pocket…Just in case I couldn't say no next time.

Leon growled low in his throat and pulled me to him as soon as I came into view. He bit my throat gently and a cold shiver darted through my body…Mmmmm. What was he doing to me? I had never felt so out of control of my own body, so completely AWOL.

"About that beer," I said, clearing my throat a little, and he laughed into my neck.

"All right, all right," he said, sheepish. "Let's go."

We walked and I was so nervous…With each step I took I grew less and less confident I'd made the right choice in coming with him. We didn't speak. It was less than a city block away, and I could hear their house all the way down the street, thumping with loud rap music, street rods lining the curb, raucous laughter. I could see people flailing around, jumping, dancing…Hell yeah. I was gonna have fun tonight if it killed me.

There was no one on the lawn; everyone was inside. Walked in and saw that there were about a hundred people in the house, all of them young, all of them beautiful. A big, mean-looking man stood near the doorway chatting with a blonde I recognized from the bar. I scanned the man's body perfunctorily, his muscles, his clothes, his tattoos. Leon roped an arm possessively around my waist and I smiled up at him reassuringly, as if to say, _I'm yours tonight. Don't worry._

The other man looked at Leon and smiled, shaking his head.

"What you got there?" he asked, raking his eyes over my body with ill-disguised lust and leaving me feeling weak and breathless. He smelled heavily of alcohol. Ugly scars lined one arm from the wrist to the bicep, almost like rope burn, as if he'd been lashed or cut, or…

"Got this girl," Leon said, hugging me to him, and I smiled nervously at the other guy. "Her name's…Wait," he said, suddenly cracking up. "What the hell _is_ your name, anyway?"

"Izzie," I said. "Isabel Adams."

"I got Izzie," Leon said.

"What a body," the guy with the scars said, and Leon shoved him gently.

"This is Vince," he said. "Vince, Izzie. Izzie, Vince." The blonde girl from the bar eyed me with a false hardness, like she was tough shit, but really I think she knew who my parents were and didn't want them telling her parents she'd been at this party.

"This," Vince said, putting his arms around the blonde and squeezing two rough handfuls of her ass, "Is Deanna. And we're gonna get to know each other tonight, aren't we." She nodded and let him kiss her.

People were dancing, drinking, smoking weed, standing on tables, making out, moshing around the living room, and they were all dressed like Leon and I were.

"Where the hell did all these people come from?" Leon mused. "I don't know any of them."

"Me either," Vince said, smiling. "I think the Big Dawg invited them all. Made fliers or something." The girl stood on tiptoes and whispered something in his ear, and he laughed and smiled. "Oh, _yeah_," he said. "Yeah. Leon, have fun, man. I'll be in my room if you need me." Leon smiled, and turned to gauge my reaction as Vince hauled the girl up and threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked, laughing, as he carried her up the stairs.

"You want a beer?" Leon asked, and I nodded slowly.

"Sure."

"Cool. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," I said, and realized I had eaten nothing since we'd arrived in Mexico. I was starving.

"Okay. I'll get the beers. There's food in the kitchen, through that door." He pointed. "Get me a plate, too, and meet me back here."

I nodded, making my way through the jostling, sweating crowd to the door he'd designated.

The kitchen was giant, probably 10x20, and there was an 8-foot buffet piled high with food. And as I stepped inside, I could smell all of the food…I just wanted to get after it so bad. And then, over the rush of noise, over the heavy, heady din of the party, I could hear soft sobbing. There was no one in the kitchen, no one I could see, but the sound seemed to be coming from the refrigerator. Cautiously, I stepped over the beautiful, cobalt-blue tiling, around the mound of food, and couldn't believe what I saw huddled in the corner at my feet.

The girl heard the scuff of my shoes on the floor before her and lifted her black head, lifted those enormous black eyes, and glared up at me. The obvious pain on her features was instantaneously replaced by the hard, hateful mask I'd seen before.

"What the fuck are _you_ doing here," she said, her throat raspy from choking back tears.

"L-Letty," I stuttered. "Do you live here?"

"Leave me the fuck alone," she said, her voice breaking on the last word as a wave of sobs broke through her steely façade and she cried freely. I wanted to leave, to just get the food and leave, but…if she was sick…if she had taken bad drugs. I wiped sweaty palms on my jeans and squatted before her, daring to rest my hands on her arms.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"No," she said, and the word came out tight and mewlish, and she kept crying. "I'm not okay. You fuckin' happy? I'm not okay. Now get out. Get the fuck away from me."

I piled some nachos on a plate and high-tailed it back to the party, back to Leon.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing my stricken expression.

"You know a girl named Letty?" I asked, and it was all I had to say. He thrust the beers at me and took off through the crowd toward the kitchen, disappearing and leaving me to shove my way slowly through the rocking, jumping, sweating bodies.

They were talking when I got there, in hushed tones, and she was crying.

"Why, though, man? What the fuck? I'm not enough?"

"Letty, you're perfect." She sobs in response. "They don't mean anything to him…None of them have ever meant anything."

"Well, it means something to me, godammit! Jesus. I miss Jesse. I miss Jesse so fucking much, Leon."

"Me too," he said, and embraced her. "It's all right, dawg-gy, come on. It's all right. Where is he? Upstairs?"

"Yeah, but don't start shit. It's so fucking embarrassing."

"He loves you, Letty," Leon said. "And everyone knows it. He's so stressed, right now, he just can't…" Leon shrugged, unable to explain. Who the hell were they talking about? Who was Jesse? And how did Leon know Letty? "Come on. Let's get you a beer." They saw me standing in the doorway, and I handed Letty one of the beers I'd been holding. "Good lookin' out, Izzie," Leon said softly, his arm around Letty now. "This is Letty."

"I know," I said, smiling slowly at her, almost shyly. I wanted her to like me. To think I was cool, standing there in my mom's undershirt and my ex's jeans, a virgin, a whitegirl to the core… "We met at the pool earlier, Leon."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Letty said, in her husky voice. "I was a bitch to her. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were Leon's girl."

"It's all right," I said. "I'm Izzie." I extended my hand. She smiled.

"I have a cousin named Izzie," she said. "Isabel?" I nodded. "Cool. I'm gonna leave y'all be now. I'm gonna go get fucked up." She disappeared into the crowd, her arms over her head, hips twisting smoothly. She had a black thong on and jeans that rode low on her hips, a tight red satin shirt with Oriental designs embroidered on it, and her hair was in a messy ponytail. Mia from the pool came breezing by and laid a kiss on Leon's cheek, and I laughed.

"Man," I said. "Saw her today too."

"That's Mia. She's a good kid."

"How do you know Letty?" I asked, trying not to sound jealous or nosy. "You too seem pretty close…"

"Yeah," he said. "I've known her for about six years now. Almost six years. She dates one of my best friends. And Mia…who just ran by…Is the same guy's little sister. And Vince is on the team, too."

"The team?" I asked. Seemed like a strange thing to say.

"The team…Nevermind. He lives here with us, that's all."

"Do all of you live here?"

"All of us?"

"Letty and Mia and Vince and this other guy?"

"Yeah," he said. And he looked at me with those cool green eyes, and I could feel my heart begin to pound again. His features weren't as fine and beautiful as Jackson's had been, but there was an irresistible heat…A dark passion about him that washed over me with a tide of my own long-absent passion. I put the food and the beer down on the table beside me without taking my eyes from his and reached up to him, holding his face in my hands. He pulled me to him and kissed me hard, bruising my lips, and I loved it. Loved the pain and the pleasure of it, loved the mixture of the two. I could feel the buckle of his belt against me, and something else just below…When I realized what it was, I felt a jolt of warmth between my legs, an awakening of something both foreign and intimately, impossibly familiar. He tore his mouth from mine and bit my earlobe gently, then released it and licked the skin of my throat just below it. Pressed his lips to my ear and spoke,

"You wanna go upstairs?"

I heard my own voice as if someone else had spoken, this newbie lust betraying me, overriding my command.

"Yes, I do."


	5. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

My head is spinning. Spinning, spinning. _Fuck me, Leon,_ I thought, out of nowhere, and another being in my mind screamed back, _No! NO!_

He was on top of me and his hands were in my shirt on my bare breasts and his tongue was hot and insistent, searching against mine…He was moving between my legs with his jeans unzipped, the hardness fully visible through his boxers, and I could feel it through my pants. I was gripping the rungs of the headboard and my eyes were closed, everything between my legs a dripping, searing mass of confusion, and each time he thrust his hips to meet mine, a tingling rush tore northward through my body. His hands left my breasts and trailed roughly down my naked ribs to my waist, around underneath me into the back pockets of my jeans, and he laughed as he found the condom.

"Oh, yeah," he said, his voice gravelly with desire, and with a swift stab of his head, he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked harshly on it, moving between my legs, gripping my ass. "Come on, Izzie," he moaned, nipping and biting along the plane of my stomach, shoving the pants down around my knees. "Come on." He pulled his hands from my pockets and grabbed my breasts, one in each hand, biting my bare, protruding hipbones in turn, and for a moment I thought he was going to go down on me. I didn't want him to, but I know now I wouldn't have stopped him. Instead he was face to face with me again, and pushing again between my legs, only his boxers between him and me. I had to fucking know. I had waited so long to know…Too long. I had to know…I wanted him inside of me more than anything, and I just had to know…

"Leon," I gasped in a haggard whisper. He pulled back a few inches and searched my face for signs of surrender.

"Yeah?"

I was free falling, off a cliff of will power, scrambling for a foothold somewhere, anywhere, to retrieve my senses from this gaping abyss of black swirling heat, great sheets of this immobilizing sensation stifling my former self.

Yet he wasn't moving now. He was waiting patiently for my answer, his eyes fixed intently on mine. He was still, and I could feel my body begin to wind down, feel my heartbeat slow, and I drew a deep breath.

"Too much too fast, Leon," I said finally, and he nodded. He had calmed down a bit as well.

"You're a virgin," he said, and I nodded.

"Yes," I said, and he rolled off of me, lying on his back and folding his hands on his stomach. I pulled my pants up but didn't zip them, waiting for the tirade, waiting for…anything at all from him. He reached over and took my hand in his, turned his head on the pillow and met me with a level green gaze.

"It's all right," he said. "It's cool."

"Yeah?" I asked, smiling a little.

"Yeah," he said. "Very." He must have been fully harmless by then, because he came toward me, pulled my shirt and bra down over my breasts, and lay his head on my chest. I'd never held Jackson this way, but it all came very naturally. I put my hands in his hair and smoothed it back away from his face slowly, rubbed his neck and shoulders, touched the muscles in his arms.

"Leon," I said, after a while. He was almost asleep.

"Mmm?"

"Who's Jesse?" I asked.

"Jesse," he said, and sighed deeply. "Jesse was my best friend. He died." He cleared his throat and swallowed hard against my stomach.

"How?" I ventured timidly.

"Can we not….?"

"Sure," I said, nodding, and cupped his face in my hand, running my fingertips over the curve of his ear. There was another long period of silence, then a knock on the door.

"Come in," Leon said, not moving. "It's open." The door opened a crack then all the way. The hallway beyond the door was dark, and I couldn't see whoever was standing, almost completely filling the doorframe.

"Sorry." A voice so low I could scarcely understand the word. "I didn't know you were busy."

"No, we're done," Leon said, and I had to laugh at the wry frustration in just those three words. I could feel him smile against my stomach.

"Seen Letty?" the other guy asked.

"No," Leon said.

"Can I bum a smoke?"

"Sure," Leon said. "On the bedside table." The man walked in then, into the dim light of Leon's bedroom, and I was completely motionless. My hands stopped their travelling down Leon's back, and I drew a deep breath and held it as I looked at this man.

He was shirtless, and he was the most musclebound man I have ever seen who still looked human. His arms and shoulders were massive, his pecs round and rock hard, leading down to field of chiseled abs, flexing and relaxing with each breath. His white boxers absolutely glowed against his dark skin, and in the dim light I couldn't tell if he was black or white, and, dim light or not, I didn't care. I could not stop looking at him, at the baggy black jeans hanging on his hips, at the long, fine fingers as he drew a cigarette out of the package. His head was shaved bald, and he looked at me through a rising gray cloud as he inhaled, holding the cigarette like a joint and pulling deeply off of it, and even his neck was roped with muscle. He picked at his belly button a little, rubbed at the fine dark hair covering his stomach. His eyes were heavy lidded and black, his lips unusually shaped. He was covered in a blanket of fine sweat. I don't know how long he had his gaze locked on me, but it seemed like ages, the room whirling around me, Leon all but forgotten.

"Seen Letty?" he asked, still looking at me a moment, then tore his eyes off mine, and I felt as if I was being deprived of oxygen, like I needed them back, wanted to scream for him to look at me again. It was so strange. I closed my eyes to escape the assault he was having on my senses. It didn't work. I could smell him now, a musky kind of perspiration-smell, Tommy cologne, the smell of a woman…

"Yeah, I saw Letty," Leon said, his irritation with either my response or this man, I wasn't sure, plain as day in his response. "She was sitting on the kitchen floor bawling."

"Aw, fuck me," he said. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious," Leon said, suddenly sounding irritated. He shoved off of me and stood up, leaving me with my fly wide open. "You been sloppy lately, Dom. She's not stupid."

"I know," the big beautiful man said. "I know."

"You're not even drunk," Leon said, incredulous now. "What are you doing?"

"Lay off," Dom snapped, his voice deep and loud, and I jumped. "All right? Lay off. Do you know where I can find Letty or not."

"Downstairs," Leon said. "Getting fucked up. That's the last I heard." Dom sighed.

"All right, well…Who's your girl?"

"Isabel," Leon said, and I raised up on my elbows to get a better look at Dom.

"Nice," Dom said, smiling. Leon said nothing. "Where'd you meet her?"

"I had to pick her up from the airport," Leon said, and Dom laughed low in his throat.

"Rich girls," he muttered, with a lopsided smile, and wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm. He looked me up and down slowly, and Leon pretended not to notice. Then Dom turned. "Gotta go find my girl Letty," he said, shutting the door behind him. That was _Letty's_man? Jesus.

Leon looked at me then, raised his eyebrows, and I smiled shyly, a hint of an apology on my face for shamelessly ogling his friend. He nodded, acknowledging the meaning of my expression.

"Don't worry, I'm used to it," he said, and I sighed, and laughed, dropping back into the pillow. "Chicks dig Dominic. Always have."

"How long has he been with Letty?" I asked.

"Six years next week. They haven't been so good together lately. He can't keep his dick in his pants." I lifted an eyebrow, and Leon climbed back into the bed, his ear over my heart, which was pounding. "Gonna be all right?" he asked, and I said nothing. I felt flushed and exhausted, my face hot, my hands cold. And I think it was as much from seeing Dominic Toretto for ten seconds as it was from nearly losing my virginity to a guy named Leon, who I'd known for two days. "He's no good for you," Leon said. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm jealous, or I'm trying to control you, or I don't think he'd want you…He'll fuck you. Usually only once, maybe twice." He shrugged. "And that's it. He'll never leave Letty. And it


	6. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

I don't know to this day how I ended up in my own bed that night. But when I woke up it was two the next afternoon and I was desperately ill.

I staggered to the bathroom and dropped to my knees in front of the toilet, hurling the contents of my stomach forth into the blue water. Whatever I had been drinking was a killer on the way out, tearing up out of my throat like it was crushed glass and not Vodka. I stopped throwing up only after my stomach was completely empty, and even then I continued to dry heave on and off for twenty minutes. When finally my body stopped raging against me, I curled up in a ball on the tile and fell back to sleep.

"Isabel?" My mother's voice. She was shaking me awake, her hands on my shoulders. "Isabel, are you ill?" I moaned and hid my face from the assault of the overhead light.

"Yeah, mom," I said. "I'm fuckin' ill. Leave me alone."

"What did you say to me?"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, and the anger on her face softened to pity.

"Leon is here," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"What? Oh, God. I can't let him see me like this. Send him away. Tell him I'll meet him at his place in an hour."

"All right," my mother said. "I will. You want me to get some fresh towels and bath beads? You look awful. And God forbid your father should smell you the way you smell now."

"How do I smell now?"

"Like a barroom floor."

I moaned and struggled to sit. My head was absolutely thundering, and I had to lunge for the toilet twice more before I made it into the tub. The bath beads smelled like lilac, sweet and strong, and the clean purity of the smell brought back a little of my pre-last-night self. Jackson Gauthier's girlfriend. Little sweater sets and pleated skirts. Prep school uniforms, black Mary Janes. Innocent pecks on the lips and one five-second blowjob. And now Jackson was going to be a father.

I don't know where it came from. Just snuck up on me. But the tears started and I couldn't stop. I sobbed wholeheartedly, naked in a lukewarm lilac bath in Mexico, a hundred thousand miles from Jackson and the girl I used to be.

Letty answered the door with a cold glare, but when she recognized me she smiled, revealing crooked but blindingly white teeth.

"Hey, Izzie," she said. "We're cookin' out on the beach. Come on." I followed Letty, about as hungry as I was the day after Thanksgiving. Leon was shooting the shit with Vince and Dom. They sat in a row of muscle and sweat in lounge chairs, elbow to elbow, with giant margaritas. Mia stood at the grill, and they all seemed to ignore her. All seemed to be forgiven, or better, between Dominic and Letty, because as soon as she got me a drink, she climbed on him and straddled his hips. He was talking to Leon, but she took his face in her hands and turned it, taking his mouth in hers mid-word, and he didn't protest, as if seized instantly by the dark power of her. He responded with more than she gave him, dropping the margarita in the sand and pushing those beautiful hands up inside her tank, letting them rest on the small of her back as he sucked on her face.

I sighed shakily and went to Leon's side. He looked up at me with those cool, sea-colored eyes and smiled. He'd gotten some sun that day. Maybe he'd been in that lounge chair since he'd woken. Maybe he'd come out to see the sun rise and had never gone to sleep.

"How are you?" he asked, almost shyly, and I smiled, nodding. I wanted to kiss him, but he made no move to do so, so I stood awkwardly in the sand next to him, in my ankle-length pale blue sundress. Vince was talking about the various types of race exhaust and which was the best for the price, and Leon turned and laughed as Vince mentioned someone named Hector, who had the loudest, most expensive exhaust system in the circuit and the slowest car in California.

Letty forced a moan out of Dom in the chair next to us, deep and low, and the sound shook me to the core. It also galvanized Leon somehow. He reached to me and took my hand in his, bringing it to his lips and biting along one of my fingers gently to my wrist, all the while never taking his eyes off Vince. I felt that all-too-familiar-lately heat begin to flood my body, and I took a gulp of the icy drink, trying to soothe it before it got out of hand, nip it in the bud. But he pulled me toward him, gripping my arm around the elbow, and I sat in his lap.

"You sick?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Very," I said, and he laughed a little.

"Ever been drunk before?"

"Not like that," I said, and he kissed my throat just beneath my ear. I leaned into the kiss, and realized then how tired I still was. I rested my head on his shoulder and he moved my hair away from my face and kissed the corner of my mouth softly. I wished now that I had sat facing the other direction. Dom and Letty were putting on quite the show, and it was making me uncomfortable. No one else even seemed to notice, and I tried to remain indifferent, but I was too undersexed to be unaffected. The way he was touching her was making me hot. His hands were too perfect, and the silver of his watch just glowed off of him. I could see now that he was not black, at least not completely. His skin was golden brown, like melted caramel, and his muscled arms were every bit as impressive now, busting out of a white V-necked tee shirt, as they had been the night before, totally bare. And Leon…The way he'd been touching me last night seemed chaste and innocent compared to the way Dom's hands ravaged Letty's body, and the way hers did his, as well.

"Dom," Mia said. "Dom. Come on." He looked up at her with a bored smirk. "Food's ready." He snarled playfully and bit Letty's throat before lifting her under the arms and setting her on her feet in the sand.

"Hungry?" Leon asked, and I shook my head emphatically. He laughed. "Come sit with us, then?"

"Sure," I said, standing and heading to the weathered-smooth wooden picnic table. I sat next to Leon, feeling suddenly very out of place. They were like a family, these people, closer than blood. They jostled each other, smacked each other around, hugged and kissed and teased each other. I was the new girl, and yet my presence was obviously not in anyway awkward for them. I sat between Leon and Letty as Mia piled chicken on a plate and put it down in front of everyone, and as Vince dove for the food, Dom slapped his hand, then pointed a big index finger in his face.

"Ha," he said. "Your turn."

"I'm _not_ prayin'," Vince said.

"Come on, V, you know the rules," Mia said, and he scowled, folded his hands, and bowed his head. The rest of us followed suit, minus the scowl.

"Thanks for the food. Say hi to Jess. Amen."

Jesse. They were quiet a moment, looking at Vince, shocked, almost. The mood was subdued and somber as we ate then, until Letty, with a devilish smile, made Dom gasp and jump with a strategically placed bare foot under the table. I blushed as everyone else laughed, and she nudged me, smiling.

"La _virgen_," she said, slowly, grinning, and at first I didn't understand what she'd said. _La veer hen_? What? But I got the humiliating gist in the ensuing conversation.

"No way," Dom said, his face snapping up from his plate. He blinked and looked at Leon, brows furrowed, confused. "I thought just last night you…"

"No," Leon said, his mouth full, and looked at me. "No, we were just messing around. Letty's…Letty's radar is right on." A big cocky smile spread across Vince's face.

"Wow," Dom said, taken aback, sincere. And then I got it. I flushed fiery red and hid my face with my hands.

"Oh, my _God_," I said.

"Oh, it's all right," Letty said, tousling my hair, and Dom cracked up.

"Well, this is swell," he said. "V, when's the last time we had a virgin at the table?"

"Eighth grade, I think," Vince said, "And it was Mia."

"Please." Mia rolled her eyes. And they all laughed. My face was so hot.

"Oh, just let me die now," I said, unable to keep the broad, mortified grin off my face, staring at the table before me with my fists on my forehead. Vince laughed out loud and pointed at me.

"Shut up," Letty said, almost protectively. "A virgin is a _holy_ thing." She crossed herself solemnly and kissed her hand. Vince and Dom and Leon were in hysterics now.

"Yeah," Dom said, his face contorted with laughter. "It's holy all right. That's why you held out so long." Letty gasped, her jaw dropping.

"Oh, you _ass_hole!" she exclaimed, grabbing a roll and chucking it at him. "I never once heard you complain about me giving it up." Everyone laughed, including me. I started and I couldn't stop, until I could hardly breathe, my cheeks still burning, and I covered them with my hands. When I could draw air, I shook my head.

"I cannot believe you guys," I said, shaking my head and staring down. Leon roped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close, kissing my forehead, his words only to me as the others continued to talk shit.

"It's all right," he murmured in my ear. "They like you, or they wouldn't bother."

"How old are you?" Dom asked, suddenly sobering, and I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. I felt ashamed of being a virgin, under his intense black stare, felt immature and childish in a way completely foreign to the comfortable nonchalance, even tentative awe, with which my virginity had been acknowledged by Leon.

"I'll be eighteen soon," I said, and Dom nodded. When I looked at him, I saw that he was licking his bottom lip and that the tease was gone from his face. There was something new there, something sincere. But I'd never seen it before in any man, and I'd never seen a man like him anywhere. Again, that whipping, reeling oblivion as my eyes and my attentions were locked solely on his face. A mocking comment from Vince finally reached into the depths of my (our?) reverie and woke me:

"You savin' it for marriage, or what?" he asked. "Because Leon's not the family type, but I'm about ready to settle down…" Mia slugged him in the arm, only half playing. They all laughed, including Dom, but the joy never quite reached his eyes. My own gaze was drawn to them again, to the deep, smoking, pupil-less black, and I studied them for a moment, confused. Confused at what I was feeling. Confused at the quiet, determined intensity that had replaced his playful grin.

What was that? What was he thinking?

Why was he looking at me…that way?


	7. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The moment of tension passed and the easy camaraderie resumed, but I couldn't shake the look in Dominic's eyes. What had that meant?

I didn't drink, but the rest of them did, so when they decided they wanted to go for a drive, to pile all on top of each other, I was cajoled into getting behind the wheel. Mia watched from the kitchen window as I reversed, jarring the carload of drunks with my pathetic attempts at driving stick.

It was Letty's car, but after I got out of the driveway and started lurching down the street, Dom hollered for me to stop, kicked her out of the front seat, into the back with leon and Vince, and he climbed into the front instead.

"Izzie, brakes. Stop." I did, grinning over at him. "Listen. I've got about eighty large sunk into this car already and Letty's not half done with it yet. You can't drive worth a shit, you know that?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"_My_ car's stick," I said. "This thing is just fussy."

"It's _fussy_?" He snorted a short laugh through his nose. "What do you drive?"

"A Jetta," I said, and the smile froze cold on his face. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Well, this is a Viper," he said. "Concentrate, all right? Pay attention to what the car's saying to you."

"Dom's getting all speerchal," Vince drawled, slowly in a hushed, mysterious tone, and Leon and Letty cracked up. "He always gets softy about cars when he's drunk."

"I am not drunk," Dom said, and Letty reached up and rubbed his prickly head gently, calming and silencing him before he could get riled.

"Izzie," Leon said. "Just ease up on the clutch once, with no gas. It's a touchy car. You gotta get to know where she kicks in. Then you'll be fine." I took a deep breath and did as he said, and when I felt the gentle little nudge against my back of the beautiful machine taking over, I let my foot arc up, and the car rolled smoothly forward.

"Good," Dom said, nodding. "Now accelerate a little. Don't look at me, look at the road. Okay, lay off the gas a minute and ease into second." I wasn't really listening to his words. His tone, low and rough and gentle, alive, almost…Insistent and coaxing, and I moved within his voice. It spread over my awareness like a thick salve and I acted without thinking, without hearing, just knowing what he wanted me to do. I shifted easily and the pickup of the car sent a cool, salty breeze over my face and through my hair.

There were no people on the streets. I got to know the beast of a car quickly, tamed her with a lenient palm, and was loving the throaty rumble of the engine, the nuances of vibration in the black leather beneath my body. I had forgotten the rowdy, inebriated bunch accompanying me, ignored them completely. I felt my eyelids get heavy, but was no longer tired…only sedated, careening placidly through a tranquil void of empty highway, as all traces of tourism disappeared into the night behind us.

"Take a left here," Dom said, and again…the insouciant telepathy, not ingesting his words and yet somehow comprehending. I turned. Felt his eyes on me. I came out of my empty preoccupation just long enough to care about Leon. Looked in the rearview mirror. He was sleeping, his head lolling on Letty's shoulder. I smiled softly, then stole a glance at Dom. "Left again," he said, and I obeyed.

"Where are we?" Letty asked. Her words were thick-tongued and slow.

"Gotta see a man about a payment," he said.

"What?" she asked. "Dom, you always say-"

"I know what I always say," he said. "But this is different. It's all right. Right here, Izzie. Yeah. Right here." I eased the car to a stop and watched with a halcyon detachment as he mussed up Letty's hair and ambulated tipsily toward a shitty little clapboard house that appeared to be sinking into the ground.

"What does he always say?" I asked, meeting Letty's pissed glare in the rearview.

"Don't do business when you're drunk," she said, then pulled her eyes off mine and stared out into the large dingy window of the shack.

I followed her gaze and we watched together as Dom and a short little cholo with black hair slicked back appeared in the window, in front of an old wooden table with four mismatched boards as legs. They were talking, and Dom had his wallet open. The cholo shook his head, and Dom didn't look happy. He rubbed his hand over his head distractedly, scratched behind his ear, then brought his hand down in front of him to gesture at something we couldn't see, something beyond the table, behind the cholo. But the other guy was not havin' it. He shook his head again, and Dom sighed, put his wallet in his back pocket.

"He's gonna hit 'im," Letty said, an almost singsong voice. "God dammit."

"He's not gonna hit 'im," I said. "He's perfectly calm."

"Watch," Letty said, and, as if on cue, Dom, perfectly calm, drew back his fist and punched the cholo dead in the face. The little guy disappeared from view, dropping to the floor, and Dom shook out his hand, sucking his knuckles briefly before turning and coming out of the house. He smiled a little into the face of Letty's hateful anxiety and opened the passenger side door. "Don't even fuckin' smile at me," she said.

"Calm _down_, Letty. It's all right."

"Gotta fuckin' start shit," she said. "Perfect."

"Come on," Dom said. "He ain' gonna do shit. He'll be calling tomorrow wanting to-"

"I don't give a shit," she said. "It's old. Why can't shit just stay quiet for a while?" Dom shook his head and looked out the window, and, with that simple gesture, the conversation was over. Letty slumped back in the seat and scowled, rubbing her cheek absentmindedly against the sweat-damp softness of Leon's hair. I felt a sudden stab of unwarranted jealousy. _Six years_, I reminded myself. _Six years, they've been thick as thieves._ I had known him for three days. I had no place making anything awkward.

We drove on in silence, Dom massaging his knuckles, and Letty and Vince and Leon were all passed out in the back. Someone was snoring. I think it was Letty.

"Look," Dom said. "Look at that road."

"What road?"

"Stop," he said. "Right there." He stared down it a moment, was silent, blinking lethargically. "Want a rush?" he asked, turning to me, in that beyond-gravelly baritone that made my palms sweat, my chest ache, my mouth dry. I couldn't speak, so I just nodded. Hell yeah. I couldn't think of anything I wanted more than a rush right then.

"All right then," he said. "Turn right onto this road here." I did, loving the purr of the ballsy engine as I slowly eased into the stifling dark of this road, staring into the blackness before me. "What do you think is down there?" he asked, and I shook my head. Shrugged. I hadn't a clue. "Let's find out." My heart skipped a beat and I nodded. "Get her goin'," he said, gently, coaxing me. I looked at him, unable to breathe. "Go! Now!" I redlined, jammed her into first, and popped the clutch. The car stood frozen as the Toyo rubber smoked and burned, screaming into the night for what seemed like an eternity, then finding traction and eating up the road with an intense eagerness matched only by my own. My hand was white-knuckle on the stick, and my entire body jolted as I felt Dom's close over it. He was switching amazingly alert eyes back and forth between me, the gauges, and the road.

"All right, _now_," he said, his deep voice dripping over me like melted wax, searing me, and I shoved in the clutch. He knew somehow, with an ultimate accuracy, when it was all the way in, and he slammed into second. I watched the speedometer. Fifty-five…Sixty…And the next time we shifted, there were no words. We just did, hurtling down…

"Push that red button on the wheel," Dom said, and I did, without asking, without thinking. An urgent screech of the tires and I was thrown back into my seat, the air knocked from my lungs in one stunned punch. _Speed._ Instant, empowering…

The night whistled past us as we blasted like jettisoned space waste into that hot, heartpounding delirium before us. I was high from hyperventilation but didn't realize it, thought it was all part of the ride. Probably buzzing from the loss of blood in my brain, too…My thighs were trembling and everything between them shook and throbbed. I was more aroused than I'd ever been in my life, and sex had nothing to do with it.

My heart was on overdrive, a staccato speed-inebriated rhythm banging in my throat, and we flew on forever, and the world consisted of nothing but me, Dom, and the sea of writhing, pulsating black that swallowed us.

"GRAVEL! SHIT! STOP!" he screamed, letting go of my hand and the stick, and I slammed on the brakes too late; we were already in it. The car careened, out of control, and I held onto the wheel for hell's hope of life to come, closed my eyes as we spun once, twice, flying, backward, into a field, and stopped hard, my face just barely averting collision with the wheel and my chest exploding with a crushing agony as my belt snapped taut and threw me into my seatback. I sat still a moment, buzzing…Dom sighed shakily and laughed with the same breath, tousling my hair.

"Jesus Christ. Dom, you crazy fuck!" Letty exclaimed, but we ignored her. Barely heard her. Dom moaned low in his throat and ran one hand over his own head, then grinned lopsidedly at me.

"You like that?"


	8. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

They had a pile of movies on the floor in front of the TV. I had come down from the high of my joyride with Dom, and the three drunks were on a second wind. Mia was sleeping so Letty was making the food this time. Strawberry daquiri margaritas and buffalo wings. The wings box had been discarded in the middle of the floor, and the white counter, which had been hospital-clean when they'd returned, was now littered with sloshes of melting margarita, bits of chopped fruit, and a small glass jar with rhinestones around the lid. I wondered...but was too tired to ask. They were all laughing, messing around. I was exhausted. I sat under Leon's arm and dozed on and off until everyone was ready to watch the movie.

Me and Leon stretched out on the couch together, my back against his front, his large arm draped over me, dragging small circles on the plane of my stomach with his fingertips, his hand _on_ my shirt and gentle, not in it and invasive, touching the soft blue velour of another borrowed tank. For about ten minutes, there was nothing I wanted more than to lie there in his arms. I was feeling warm, safe, comfortable. I was starting to really like Leon. Genuinely appreciate him as a person, rather than just someone who got me hot. There was nothing hot about the way he was holding me now, and I didn't want there to be.

Until Dom sat down with a plate piled high with wings, and Letty jumped into his lap without looking, planting the plate on the front of his shirt. He tensed, looked like he'd kill her, but she was unphased.

"Ay, Papi," she said, exasperated with his temper, scolding him for it, almost. "Just take it off." I tried not to look. Really I did. But I couldn't stop myself. My eyes absolutely gravitated to him, glued to the naked contours of his torso, to the way his muscles played off each other with each nod of his head, bite of chicken, flick of his wrist, and luckily Leon was facing the back of my head because I know I was slack-jawed and drooling. Watched wide-eyed as Letty peeled the soiled white tee up over his head, kissing his bare, smooth chest. He smiled, picking up the wings and tossing them back onto the plate, setting it on the coffee table beside him. Vince came in, turned the light off, stretched out on his stomach on the floor with his face about a foot from the 54-inch screen.

"Let's smoke a dube," Letty said, out of nowhere, and Leon laughed into the back of my neck.

"Nah," Dominic said. "Not tonight." He looked at me, and Letty sulked back against his chest, folding her arms as he ate and the previews to the movie came up. I closed my eyes, Leon rubbing my upper arm and shoulder absentmindedly, and that gradually stopped and his breathing became deep and rhythmic. He was asleep, and they assumed I was asleep, too.

"Aight," Dom said quietly. "V, you got some?"

And they rolled, smoked quietly for a long time without saying anything.

"I'm so fuck dup," Vince said finally. "That's enough for me, guys." He flopped back down on the floor, watched, frozen and mesmerized, as rows and rows of uniformed children marched and an eerie voice sang _'Hey, teachers, leave them kids alone.'_

There was a long silence, and through slitted eyes, I stole a glance around the room. V was motionless. Letty stood against the wall, finishing off the last few hits from a Cheech-worthy joint, and Dom sat in the chair, still, alert. I guessed he'd done less smoking than the others, or that he was high all the time and it didn't affect him. If Vince was conscious, he showed no visible signs of it, other than the fact that his eyes were open. Letty dropped the little stub she had left in an ashtray and trudged slowly to the chair, hauling herself laboriously up onto Dom's lap. She was antsy despite her subdued daze, wiggling, trying to get comfortable, and just as I was about to close my eyes again, she stopped, abruptly, and turned slowly to face Dom with a wiseass smirk as he fixed her with a heavy-lidded grin.

"What's _that_ all about?" she whispered hoarsely. If Vince heard, he paid it no mind. I thought he was passed out.

"It's all about you, Mami,' he said, that rumble of a voice from deep in his chest, and obviously the sound of his voice had the same effect on her as it had on me. She leaned back into his body, starting a slow, rocking rhythm with her hands resting on his forearms, pinning them to the seat of the chair. He smiled into her throat, biting at the soft skin there and elliciting from her a low involuntary moan.

"What about Vince?" she asked breathily, and Dom laughed, grabbing a blanket off the back of the loveseat.

"Vince is long gone," Dom said. "Izzie and Leon are sleepin'. Relax."

I watched as he watched his fingers creep up her back, over her shoulder, down, down her front, under the blanket, and she opened her legs to him and arched her back, pushing against his hand. He chuckled low in his throat at her urgency, touching her a moment through the denim, then unbuttoned her baggy jeans, and she stood up to let them fall. I saw that she wore not panties but the string bikini bottom, and when Dom saw this, he grunted and pulled her back onto his lap. Draped the blanket over her sloppily. Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, teasing her, he untied first one side of the bottoms and then the other, so the front dropped down into his lap.

She leaned back, wrapping her arms back around his head, and he pressed his fingers into her armpit, biting it lightly before sliding his hands southward, and before he even reached the end of her ribcage, her legs were open, hidden by the blanket, and yet I saw, in the flashing light from the TV, his hand disappear under the pale, threadbare cotton of the blue throw. I could not breathe.

Dom watched her the whole time, watched the black satin of her hair move across his chest, the warm caramel of her fingers as they dug into his skin, the red flush rising in her face, the pink tip of her tongue as it sat on her upper lip…Watched all the colors of her body come alive under the touch of one properly-placed finger, watched the symphony of sensation he created in her, his eyes flashing in the light, devouring the masterpiece he was devising, as if he'd never get enough of seeing his work well done.

Just the tip of one forefinger, in just the right spot, pressing just hard enough, with just a little bit of rhythm, his body a statue, immaculately sculpted and almost completely stationary. Only the twitch of muscles in his forearm betrayed what he was doing, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, a brutal plunge of his hand, and Letty cried out. The blanket dropped unnoticed to the floor at the abrupt motion, and I could see…

Should have turned away but I wasn't thinking, wasn't breathing, and most definitely was beyond the muscle control it would have taken to turn my head…Two of his fingers buried to the hilt in her, the thumb of the same hand pressing hard and fast an inch above the fingers, and she was shaking all over, uncontrollably, her legs wide open, her hands on his hips behind her, her face to the ceiling, the back of her head resting on his shoulder.

"Come," he whispered against her throat, and pushed hard and rough, shoved his fingers deep into her body, and the rush of heat and wind on her skin, along with the assault he was dealing with his hand, made her seize up, stiff, silent, eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a moth, her mouth hanging open, lower lip trembling.

And as strange as I felt admitting it, I thought she was so beautiful as she came…Both of them together were so beautiful. And then, as if broken, as if completely drained, her body crumbled. He drew his fingers out of her slowly and sucked them, rubbing his cheek against hers, tied two hasty bows at her hips so the bikini bottom covered her again. He lifted the blanket off the floor and wrapped her in it as one would a small child, hugging her against him with both arms. He murmured something unintelligible against her forehead. She understood him, though, nodded.

"Vince," she said weakly from her cocoon. He was still, said nothing. "Vince!" He started and looked over at her, dazed and confused. "Fire up another dube." I snapped my eyes shut as Dom's slow gaze drifted toward the couch, moaned as if stirring in my sleep, rolling to bury my face in Leon, who breathed in and out sedately, without a care. Between my thighs I was sticky, and my face was on fire. _Calm down. Calm down._

But I was tired. I lay, wracked with guilt, my heart pounding, listened to Dom smoke weed and get hysterical, that grating laugh echoing through my entire being, and slowly, slowly my body acquiesced to my silent commands and I could sleep.


	9. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

I staggered through the front door at around eleven the next morning. My mother smiled, standing at the stove, and wiped her hands on her apron before pouring me a glass of orange juice.

"See?" she said. "Aren't you glad I took you to see that doctor?" I scowled at her over the rim of my glass.

"I'm a virgin, Mom. And that's not going to change any time soon." Not defensive humiliation or general adolescent hatred of my mother…It was self-disgust. I was pissed at myself. I'd had the chance to end this ache in me and I had pussed out…at the party. I was pissed because I wanted to have sex. And I wanted it now.

I stomped up the stairs and threw myself on my stomach on the bed. Played with the hem of my pillowcase, wanted to cry and didn't know why. PMS, probably. I was angry and guilty, felt like a pervert for not being able to look away. I felt like I had betrayed Leon, Letty, and Dom just by watching. I felt filthy and yet could not bring myself to regret it…Just one brief hint of an image from the night before entered my mind and I was humming again, hot all over, wet, out of control. I stood and stripped off my clothes, stood before the giant bath and filled it with cold water. I gasped as I sank into the water, freezing but instantly relieved. The hot, blood-filled agitation between my legs relented and I moaned and lay my head back against the tub, my arms hanging limp and weak at my sides. I fully intended to remain in the bath for the remainder of the day.

I would have, too, except about an hour after I'd climbed in, I became remotely aware that somewhere in the house a phone was ringing. Who the hell would be calling? _I_ didn't even know this number. I pulled a bath sheet around my naked body and tracked the infernal aggravation to the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Hey," a warm, intimately familiar voice.

"Leon? What's up, man?"

"I've been knocking on the door for five minutes," he said, laughing. "What the hell are you doing in there?" I said nothing, glanced dry-mouthed at the huge white towel, the only thing standing between me and utter nudity. "You gonna let me in or what?"

"Um…" I struggled to find the right words, the wrong words, any words…Then there were two intense green eyes locked on mine, a cocky, boyish grin with perfect white teeth, as his face appeared before me in the open kitchen window. Still speaking into his cell, he said softly,

"You naked under that towel?" My jaw dropped and suddenly, powerfully, I was afraid. Yet somehow I went to the door and opened it. I think he knew I was afraid, because he didn't grab me, kiss me…nothing. He just stood and stared down at me, and not at my body, either. He stared into my eyes, and I licked my bottom lip, the way I always did when I was nervous. He pocketed his phone and let his hands hang at his sides, palms up, as if to say…_Whatever, baby. I'll take whatever you're ready to give._

It was this that always pushed my fear aside and made me want to give him everything. I took his face in my hands, and slowly, with a conscious effort to remain non-threatening, he roped his arms around my waist and clasped his hands at the small of my back.

I draped my arms to rest over his shoulders as we kissed, didn't want to start anything I couldn't finish, and yet I wanted to feel…Was pretty sure I wanted to feel what Letty had felt. Just the thought of Leon's hands on me…in me…had my heart racing and my juices pumping.

"You wanna see my room?" I asked breathily against his ear, and he moaned a little.

"Sure," he said, and I took one of his hands in mine, led him up, and he followed mutely.  
>I was too nervous to look back at him, didn't turn to face him again until we were in the airy golden splendor of my bedroom. The midday light glared in through the windows, glowing on the hardwood floor, and a coolish salty breeze set the curtains to dancing. My bed was neatly made since I hadn't touched it the night before, gleaming like Leon's smile in the sun, covered by a huge white down comforter and piles and piles of overstuffed white feather pillows. I pulled him to it and stopped, my heart kicking the shit out of my ribs. I didn't know where to go from there and he knew it, took me under the arms, lifted me up, easily, above his head, and lay me back across the king-sized mattress diagonally.<p>

My body was completely alive all of a sudden, tingling and wholly alert, and even the soft terry cloth of the giant towel was abrasive. I squirmed as Leon settled next to me, my nipples hard inside the towel, dragging across the harsh fabric, and he knew. I don't know how, but he knew. Unhooked the towel where I'd tucked it to keep it on and unwrapped me slowly, staring down at my naked body with a heady glaze over those unreal eyes, splayed his fingers on my stomach, and moved to kiss my mouth gently, briefly, before closing his lips over a hard nipple and darting at it with a soft wet tongue. I couldn't keep the low moan in my throat, nudging my hips upward involuntarily, even though there was nothing there to meet me. My eyes were closed, and in my mind's eye I could see Dom's hand, first two fingers completely gone. I took Leon's hand in mine, shaking, and felt him grow still and attentive as I eased it down toward my navel, past it. I realized that his hand was trembling too, beneath mine, opened my eyes and searched his face, trying to read him. I was met only with an openly lustful and yet warm, encouraging smile.

"What do you want me to do," he whispered, and my body quaked to the core at the throaty rasp in his voice. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, not able to breathe properly at all, my mind reeling.

"I want…" I said, my voice sounding foreign to me. "I want…" I could not finish the sentence, could not verbalize the answer my mind and body were thrusting to the fore…_I want you to fingerfuck me senseless, Leon, two fingers, hard and fast, like Dom did to Letty last night…You missed a great show.._

"You want my finger inside of you?" he prodded, and I nodded, tingling all over at his ability to read me so clearly. He smiled. "You got it." His hand drifted down on its own now and I closed my eyes, jolted as he touched me. "It's all right," he whispered against my throat. "Relax, I won't hurt you." I felt his hand dip down, over my pubic bone to the entrance to my body. He massaged there a minute with his whole hand, and I wanted to scream at him to get on with it before I lost my nerve. I was trembling hard, but it was a good tremble as he eased the tip of just one finger into me, to the first knuckle, and moved it back and forth a little. "You all right, Izzie?" I nodded. "You ready?" I nodded again, and he shifted his weight so he could get a more straight angle, and I felt his arm tense as he prepared to push down into me, and the high-pitched bleet of his cell phone split the air.

"Ah, Jesus _fucking_ Christ." He sat up, left me naked and breathless to stare at him as he dug his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the caller ID before he picked up. "Dom, this better be really fuckin' good…Oh, Letty. _Jeez,_ what do you _want_?" I couldn't hear her words, but her tone was loud and hysterical, and I watched the enraged frustration fade from his face, disbelief spreading over his features. "All right, all right, Mama. You're all right…Yeah…Yeah. I'll be right there." He stood up, turned and looked at me, a bit sheepishly, embarrassed, covering his erection with his hand as if to hide it and protect me from it. "You got any ice made? I have to go." I found my voice, then managed a strangled laugh.

"Ice? Yeah, I have ice," I croaked. I stood up, yanked a tight knit cotton floor-length tank dress down over my head and my body.

"I'm sorry, Izzie," he said, as we hurried down the stairs to the kitchen. I didn't know how to answer him, so I didn't speak. I found a Ziplock freezer bag and held it beneath the ice dispenser until it was full, narrowly resisting the urge to drop to the linoleum, spread my legs, and push the bag between them. I cleared my throat and sealed it, then handed it to him.

"There," I said, still beyond shaky. He headed for the door and I followed him there, holding it open, more to keep myself upright than to let him out. He paused on the stoop and turned back to me.

"Come with me," he said.

"What? No, Leon, I don't have any-"

"So what? No one will know. And maybe we'll get to pick up where we left off. Come on." I poked my feet into a pair of brown leather sandals and hurried down the street behind him.

"Where's Dom?" he asked, storming in through the front door, yanking me behind him, my semi-dry hair already coiling into tight curls from the heat and humidity.

"He left," Letty said, pacing back and forth in front of the refrigerator, wearing nothing but the white bikini and a pair of black leather daisy dukes. "Gimme the ice." Leon handed it over, and we followed Letty to the living room, where a beautiful blonde sat dazed and bleeding on the couch, Mia standing over him with a damp cloth, wiping at his face. She was crying and speaking a repetitive mantra of quiet, pleading commands.

"Keep your eyes open. Don't go to sleep. Keep your eyes open."

"Someone's gotta find Dom," Letty said. "Vince?"

"He left for a reason," Vince stated, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. "If he's gone it's because he wants to be." Shot a cold glare at the back of the guy on the couch's curly blond head.

"Cut the shit, Vince," Mia said through her tears. "After all that's happened you still can't-"

"What'd he do?" Leon cut in, and Letty looked at him, scowling.

"Broke his face and left," she scoffed.

"Where you think he went, Let?" Leon asked.

"Think of the worst possible place for Dom to go when he's pissed. That's where he's at."

"Okay," he sighed. "Stay here, Izzie, I'll be back in an hour." I nodded, and he stole a rushed kiss from my lips before taking Letty's keys and heading back out the door.

Letty stood next to me, arms folded over her chest, and watched as Mia wrapped some ice in the towel and pressed it to the busted-to-shit side of whiteboy's face.

"C'mere, Letty," Mia said, "You think I should take him to a hospital?"

"How fuck would I know?" Letty asked, but she approached the couch anyway, cocked her head and looked into the guy's face thoughtfully. "No fucking clue."

"He get hit in the head?" I asked, and both girls nodded. "Let me have a look." I crossed the room and they stepped back, watching as I lifted his chin, all business now, all about what I had learned in school, what my father had taught me all those long nights studying medicine with him, his sharp tongue, cruel criticism, harsh impatience having made me an ungodly perfectionist, and almost freakishly well-versed in medicine, besides. "Look up at me, buddy. What's his name?"

"Brian," Mia said.

"Brian, can you hear me? Look up at me. Mia, give me that towel." I wiped the blood away, meeting his pure, cool blue eyes for a moment. Was everyone in this house utterly, devastatingly gorgeous except for me? "How old are you, Brian?"

"Twenty-six," he said, and I looked to Mia for verification. She nodded. His pupils were grossly asymmetrical, and I didn't like the way his tongue was thick and clumsy.

"You feel sick to your stomach?" As soon as I'd finished my sentence, his body lurched forward and he hurled, projectile-style. I just barely made it out of the way as the scant contents of his stomach shot across the room. "He's got a concussion," I said. "Can you stand up, Brian?" He looked at me, blinking, and a cloudy confusion watched over his features. "No, huh?" I wondered if his brain was seriously injured or if he had just been knocked blockless. "Well, can you touch your nose?" He did, his hand shaking. "Other hand." He did. "Okay." I grabbed Mia and pulled her to stand right next to me. "Who's this?" He paused a moment, struggling to focus those surreal eyes on her.

"Mia," he said.

"Mia who."

"Mia Toretto."

I grabbed Letty.

"What about her?"

"Dom's girl," he slurred. "Letty."

"Letty who?" Intense perplexity crossed his face.

"He don' know that," Letty said. "It's Garcia, Bri. Don't stress it, you weren't supposed to know that one." He smiled a little, still trying to get away with closing his eyes.

"What do you think?" Mia asked. "Dom's gonna be back. He's drunk out of his mind. I really don't think it's in Brian's best interest to be here when Dom gets back."

"Well, what _else_ is there to do wit' 'im?" Letty dropped her arms to her sides and flopped down into the leather armchair.

"He needs to be watched," I said. "Why can't you take him to the hospital?" They all looked at me like I was retarded, and no one moved to answer me. "For at least 24 hours, he needs to be watched. Around the clock." A long snore came from the couch, and I looked at this Bri guy. Wondered why Letty, Leon and Mia had no problem with him, Dom wanted to kill him, and Vince was openly disgusted with his presence. I looked up at Mia, who was a little shaken up, having been crying, and sighed. "My parents aren't home. They'll be drunk when they come home. And they'll be gone again tomorrow morning. If we throw him in my bed now, they'll never know he was there. Someone help me get him in the car."


	10. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

I settled him into my bed and he fell asleep again, immediately, in boxers and a tee shirt on top of the comforter. The sunlight made the golden down that covered his arms and legs glitter, and I settled into an armchair across the room to work, glancing up every ten or fifteen minutes to make sure he was still breathing. Each time I peeked up at him, my eyes were stuck on him. He was so…_pretty_. Almost laughably so, compared to Dom and Vince. His hair was curly, would have probably been ringlets if it were longer, and those eyes…And Mia…What was up with that? She had been just hanging over him, sobbing. I'd never seen more than a hint of a smile or a trace of a frown on her face, so this open display of affectionate distress was baffling to me.

I got about halfway through my summer thesis for English Lit III before the sun turned the ocean into a shimmering blanket of crimson and gold. Brian hadn't so much as moved, and I was beginning to worry he might be comatose. I crossed the room to the bed and my heart was pounding as I looked at him, yet no sparks flew as I put my hands on him and shook gently.

"Brian," I said. "Hey." At first he did nothing, and I felt an instantaneous cold sweat, a mild panic. He was breathing. I shook him again. "Wake up, Brian." He grunted and buried his face in the pillow, then looked up at me, blinking and disoriented. "I'm Izzie," I said. "You remember me from a few hours ago?" He narrowed his eyes against the harsh orange light blaring through the window. Shook his head. "Me and Mia and Letty brought you here, to my house, so I can keep an eye on you. You got smacked in the head. You remember that?" He blinked a few times, thinking hard, brow furrowed, then nodded, dropping his head back into the pillow.

"Dom," he managed, one eye in the pillow, the other staring up at me, beautiful blue surrounded by bloodshot red. "Am I all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, man," I said, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs.

"Can I sleep more?"

"Sure," I said. And the eye closed. And he was completely out before I got back to my chair.

I don't know why…I was so tired. I couldn't think straight and the words fast became meaningless squiggles across my paper, and I fought off sleep until my eyelids overrode my command and drooped shut on their own.

I woke to find a pounding headache, my notebook on the floor beside the chair, almost blinding moonlight streaming through the window. The entire room was bathed in pale, cool blue. And somewhere there was a steady knocking.

The cobwebs and curtains of recent sleep cleared gradually and I knew it was the door long before I acknowledged the realization and headed down the hall toward the staircase. I ran my fingers through my hair and gathered it at the nape of my neck, stretching a scrunchie over it to hold it there, felt it streaming down over my shoulder blades, hot, sticky, curly from the humidity. There was a cool breeze. I could feel it as I stepped into the open air of the kitchen, where the simple white curtains danced against the window frames. It was the dead of night, but the moonlight was so bright I didn't think to turn on a light, and, too tired to be cautious, swung the door open drowsily. And gasped.

Filling the doorway, large and somber, was Dominic Toretto. Wearing a white ribbed tanktop that ended just at his waist and pale, baggy jeans that hung low on his hips. He was soaking wet, but he smelled of ocean and wind, not sweat. His feet were bare and he wore no underwear beneath the jeans, his iguinal canal so deep and obvious, two beautiful creases running from his hips to meet somewhere in a 'V' inside his pants. I wished my eyes could trace the lines down, down to their disappearance into what I imagined to be coarse black curls. The clean scent with a hint of his musk filled my head and dizzied me instantly, and I gripped the doorknob, white-knuckled, terrified by and thrilled with him at once. I was afraid he would tear through my house, find Brian, kill him.

"Spilner here?" he asked, and those two words set my flesh on fire. I felt light-headed and hot, my heart pounding, frozen, speechless. My mouth was working but no words were coming out, and I couldn't stop staring at him, the way he completely filled the doorframe, one elbow propped up above his head. He was so animal, his entire body a cool, wet mirage in the heat of the night, and my mouth was burning to kiss him, my palms itching to touch him, run up under the torturously thin white of the wifebeater, over the slick, brinewet ridges of his abs, cup the firm mounds of his pecs and run my thumbs over the hard little nubs of his nipples.

He saw my fear and acknowledged it right away.

"I won't hurt him, Izzie."

If he noticed my lust, he said nothing. I sensed a calm in him and nodded, my heart clenching up like a fist and as I realized I'd have to stop show him to my bedroom, where Brian slept.

"He's sleeping, I said. "He's got a concussion."

"Is he all right?" That low rumbling thunder voice behind me in the pulsating black of the stairway made me shudder, as if it were a live entity of its own and would reach out and grab me.

"I think so. He's real confused and lethargic right now, but every time he wakes up he's a little better." I turned my doorknob and the old hinges complained softly as I gave it a gentle push to swing it open.

"Shit," Dom said, hefting his hands up with one hand, running one back, tired, over the short stubble on his head, staring at the broken guy in my bed. He stepped cautiously to the bed, and as he did, his pants inched down and I could see in the dim lunar glow the bare brown beginning curves of his ass and the innocent, shadowy cleft and I clenched fistfuls of my dress as an irrepressible urge to tear his pants down and sink my teeth into his skin ripped through me. I was shaking. I had no idea who I was or where this was coming from, and I wasn't sure if I was afraid or in awe of myself.

He must have felt a draft or heard me gasping for breath, because he hitched them up and held them there with one hand while he leaned across the hideously huge bed and punched Brian lightly in the shoulder.

"Spilner," he said. "Hey." Brian stirred a little.

"Brian," I said, moving to Dom's side and shaking him lightly. He coughed shortly and lifted his head, that blank stare, gazed at my face. "Dom's here to see you," I said, and Brian looked at him.

"Great." He lifted his head, squinting and blinking at Dominic, no fear there.

"I'm sorry, man," Dom said. "Last I heard you ratted every fuckin' thing you knew." Brian nodded, as if with complete comprehension. "I didn't know about the charges, and your badge. Made a few phone calls about an hour ago and now…" He shrugged, as if to say _Take it or leave it._ I looked at Dom. His brows were furrowed, his black eyes unreadable. When Brian was silent, he continued. "When I'm wrong I say it," Dom said. Brian nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open. "I overreacted. But I got more than just me to look out for here." Dom was a little drunk, but his words were clear and his intent was good.

"It's all right," Brian said. "Just here for…for…" The name wouldn't come, and he looked frustrated.

"Mia," Dom finished. "I know. Don't sweat it, man. I'm too plastered to get you home right now. Sleep here and I'll come get you in the morning." As if hypnotized, the second the word 'sleep' left Dom's lips, Brian's eyes thunked shut and he was out.

"Come on," I said, not able to keep the extra husk out of my already-low-for-a-girl voice. "Let's leave him be." Dom nodded and followed me out, down the stairs. I walked slowly, half hoping that he would stumble and pitch forward into my back, all that cool, moist bronze skin against me, that hard chest against my hair, and maybe, maybe I would turn around, smile at him, show him I was glad he'd fallen, and we would sit down on the stairs and he would see I had no underwear on and he could use those long, sturdy fingers on me the way he'd…

I cleared my throat loudly to stop my own typhooning thoughts and was grateful when we came into the open air of the kitchen. I took a deep breath, could feel his eyes on me, and he stopped, folding his arms over his chest and fixing me with this dark glare and half of a cocky, lopsided smile. When I noticed he wasn't following, I turned and looked at him and my heart skipped. Shit. Busted.


	11. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

He unfolded his arms and stepped so we were just inches apart. His muscles played off each other, moving, changing the shape of him as he reached for me, rested giant hands on my shoulders and when he touched me, my heart lurched into overtime. It was an instant, overwhelming response, stronger than the quaking jolt I'd felt when Leon had slipped his fingertip into my body, stronger than the soaring weightlessness of my first kiss with Jackson, and it was only my _shoulders._

"Look at me in the face, Izzie," he said, and when I did, I was shocked to see something…Fear? Uncertainty? Surprise that he felt…What? He swallowed hard, his black eyes milky from the moonglow. "You want...and DESERVE...more than I can give you tonight." He squeezed my shoulders gently before dropping his hands off of me and shoving them into his pockets. I couldn't breathe, trying to find my voice, dizzy from that rasping, ethereal growl of a sentence. I stuttered out the beginning of an apology as some of the blood returned to my brain, but he stopped me.

"Relax," he said, but somehow I couldn't obey. "Where are your parents?"

"I don't know," I whispered. I went slowly to the window and checked the driveway. "They're gone."

"Your dad drink?" he asked, drawing one large hand slowly from his pocket and rapping his knuckles absently on the white marble island's top.

"Gulps like a fish," I said, and swallowed hard. "Why? You want a drink?" He hiked his pants up and eased onto one of the larged stools near the island, long legs draped open lazily, his feet resting on the floor, elbows on the island's countertop. His head was freshly shaven, the skin there pale and untouched by the sun as of yet. He seemed to like the feel of it, the fingers of one big hand, bruised hand back and forth over it.

"Sure," he said. "What you got?"

"I don't know," I said, and I could feel his eyes on me as I turned my back to him, crossed the kitchen and entered the main room where the full bar was located. "I don't think he's stocked it yet...Tequila. Scotch and Whisky. Captain Morgan's."

"Got Coke?" he asked. "For with the Captain's?" I bent at the waist and checked the cooler at the rear of the bar.

"Yeah," I reported over my shoulder, somewhat calmed by being forced to concentrate at the task at hand. "That what you want?"

"Sure," Dom said. "Not too strong. I was drinking 1800 earlier. That shit is lethal. I remember being pissed. I don't remember hitting him at all." He shook his head slowly. But he didn't look too broken up about it. He was watching me like a hawk, his eyes absolutely pinned on me. I felt as if there was a pillow over my face; my cheeks were hot nd my breath was short and shallow. "You have brothers and sisters, Izzie?"

"Brothers," I said. "Two."

"Older?"

"Yes."

"Uh-oh. They gonna come after Leon?" He smiled a little as I handed him his drink.

"Not likely," I said, hoisting myself up onto the counter beside the fridge, swinging my legs slowly. "They'll probably never even know he exists."

"Unless you marry him," Dom grinned, taking a large gulp of the drink and licking his lips. I laughed.

"Even less likely."

"Just slummin for the summer?" he asked, a little edge to his voice, some underlying sensitivity I couldn't figure.

"What?" I repeated dumbly. "Slummin'?"

"Yeah, slummin. You know, keeping yourself busy all summer with some charming, broke little working class boy from the wrong side of the tracks until you dump him before school starts and go back to all those Ivy League pricks." I gaped at him in utter incredulity.

"NO. Where do you get off thinking that? God, money means _nothing_ to me!"

"Really," Dom said, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"Yes, really." I couldn't keep the offended perturbation out of my voice. "In fact, I wish I didn't have any. I wish I could drive around a Lexus that isn't mine picking people up from the airport, scrub swimming pools, serve drinks all day instead of going to some shitty, stuffy ass school with self-absorbed snobs under the impression that the world belongs to them alone, they are the nation's future, and the galaxy shifts with a brush of their fingertips." Even drunk, Dom followed every word. I could see the subdued intelligence in his eyes and a new, sincere expression overtook those beautiful features. I knew the discussion of money was over and, that, at least between us, the topic would never be reopened.

"You gonna sleep with Leon?" Dom asked, and I could feel the fire climbing my cheeks.

"I…I don't know."

"He's not pressuring you."

"No, I know he's not."

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes," I conceded. His tone was so genuine, so chaste, that my humiliation faded and I was able to answer him-and myself-honestly.

"But dying to know," he said, grinning, and I laughed out loud.

"Yeah."

"You'll know when you're ready," he said, standing up slowly and handing me the empty glass. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. "I have to go home. Letty's pro'lly pacing and swearing." He went to the door, pants drooping again, and I couldn't follow him. Stood shaking on legs that barely supported my weight. He opened the door himself and looked back over his shoulder at me a minute. "Thanks for letting him sleep here," he said. "For watching him." I nodded, tried to think of something else to say to him, but with a final smile, he was gone.

It was about eleven the following morning when I woke, blinking. I was in bed with Brian, and Mia and Letty stood over me, their heads cocked, smiling down at me.

"Rough night, you two?" Letty asked me, and Mia laughed.

"I sat down here to watch him," I croaked groggily. "I must have fallen asleep. God, I'm exhausted."

"Well, you're one up on me," Letty said. "I didn't sleep at all last night. Dom came home-"

"Please," Mia broke in. "My psychiatric well-being depends _so much_ on you not finishing that sentence." Now it was my turn to laugh. I stood and stretched, yawning deeply, and Mia crawled up onto my bed, pressing her front against Brian's back and closing her eyes, smiling against the nape of his neck. Me and Letty watched as if transfixed as his body warmed to her touch, coherence quickening his features, and he rolled to face her without opening his eyes, his mouth seeking and finding hers instinctively. They kissed deeply for a long, almost chaste moment, then he pulled away, opening those insanely blue eyes.

"Hi," he said. "I missed you." Mia nodded, but couldn't speak, dark eyes welling with tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, voice choked, after a pause. "I'm so sorry."

"It's gonna be fine," he said. "Don't be sorry. I'm not sorry." He kissed her again, then folded her against his chest with impressively built arms.

"Hey," Letty said, tugging on my arm. "Time to go."

"Where?" I asked. "I need to bathe." She made an 'are you serious?' face.

"Fuck it. You're fine. Come on."

"Jesus, at least let me change my clothes." She sighed, but I wasn't giving her an option there, and I grabbed underwear, bra, tee, and jeans before barreling out of the room and closing the door on Brian and Mia's increasingly heated reunion.

"Wait while I change," I said, ducking into an empty guestroom and shutting the door behind me. I ditched the dress, donned the digs, and pulled my fro-ish hair back away from my face before heading out into the hallway and fixing Letty with a curious smile. She dragged her eyes up and down my getup, shaking her head.

"Your clothes are awful," she said, and I burst out laughing, but she was serious. "You wanna be bad, right? Wanna be one of us?" I nodded. I loved Letty's clothes…As long as I could remember, I had wanted something other than the conformist shit the other girls at prep schools were wearing. "Well," she said, laughing a little. "No doubt you'll be a badass at the end of today. Let's go, then."

"What?" I blinked. "Where?"

"On a road trip, esa! God. What else you got to do?"

I felt a slow, anticipatory smile spread across my face like frosting.

"One second while I write my mom a note."


	12. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Letty's car was a deep, blood-colored Nissan 240SX.

It was fully furnished, smelled heavy of oiled-up brand-new black leather interior, and as I climbed into it, I felt as if I should take my shoes off. Take my pants off. The leather of the seat was so soft, I was afraid the rivets in my jeans would leave deep scratches. I raped it hungrily with my eyes, memorizing each contour of the dash, the faceplate of the $2500.00 system, the stick, the blue and silver tanks in the back...

"You like it," she stated, smiling a little, and I nodded wordlessly. "Listen." She turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred eagerly, thrumming beneath and around and in me, and I swallowed hard.

"Wow," I whispered. It was obvious that only the body had come off the assembly line.

"You can't drive it," she said, and I laughed breathily.

"All right." She lit a cigarette and pulled off it deeply.

"So tell me, pura. What made you be so nice to me that night in the kitchen?"

"What?"

"That night. That fucked up party with all the li'l rich bitches there."

"You...You were crying," I said, confused, shocked that it wasn't obvious. "What was I _supposed_ to do?"

She shrugged well-defined bronze shoulders.

"Ignore me, maybe? Like the thirty other people who came and went before you?"

"I wouldn't do that," I said quietly. She was looking at me strangely, then cleared her throat and tapped her smoke on the rim of the ashtray.

"Has Leon said anything to you about Mexico City?"

"Huh?"

"We're going to Mexico City next week on business. Leon wanted you to come, but Dom didn't think it was a great idea. Then Leon got pissed, so Dom said they'd talk about it later. I was just wondering if Leon got his way. Obviously not." She raised an eyebrow, and I fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Dom doesn't want me to go?" I picked at the hem of my shirt, hoping I wasn't completely transparent.

"It's just that you're so young, Izzie. Somethin' happens to you, it's his ass." _So the fuck what?_ I thought. So I was young. So what. But I said nothing. I was still nervous, intimidated by Letty, and didn't want to seem like an overeager, sniveling little kid begging to come along. I looked out the window, trying not to show that I was disappointed, but Letty saw it immediately and nudged me, smiling. "I'll push for ya, too," she said, and I grinned.

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah. You think Mia'll go now that Brian's back?" I shrugged. I honestly didn't know. "No way in hell. She's been pouting around for three months about him. They'll be catching up. I'll be the only girl otherwise. So...I'll see what I can do. I mean, if you _want_ to come."

"Of course I want to come."

"Aight, then. I'll put my knee pads on and make it happen for you."

I cracked up, and she grinned and shook her head, white teeth gleaming against the deep painted plum of her lips. We were quiet a while, just watching Mexico go by. I felt the need to make conversation, but was guilty. Wanted to speak to her, wanted to get inside her head, but was afraid, too. Afraid to learn that all of that cool superiority, that hard indifference, was a front.

Finally I turned to her and broke the silence.

"How long have you and Dom been together?" I choked on his name. As soon as I spoke it, that image came into my mind, his hand buried between her legs, her face as she came. I blushed furiously out of nowhere and turned my red face to the window before she could see it.

"Six years," she said, and my jaw dropped. I felt cold suddenly, stared at her with my mouth agape.

"Six years?" I managed. "How old are you?" Guilt stabbed at my heart with a hellborn ferocity. Six years. Practically married.

"Twenty two," she said. "And he's 27. I was sixteen when we got together." She exhaled a long string of gray. "He's the only guy I've ever been with in my life. Only guy I've ever kissed, only guy I've ever wanted to." _That's it, Letty, twist the knife..._

"Wow." It was the only world left in my verbal vocabulary, but my mind was racing. _No more, Isabel. None. This is serious...Just stop with the fixation._ Six years...Jesus. And besides, I had Leon. And hadn't Dom made it abundantly clear that he was not interested just the night before?

Another long lapse in the conversation while I kicked the shit out of myself. Letty put a CD in. Heavy bass, a thick female voice, cocky and confident, the way I wished I was so desperately..._"Drop ya glasses, shake ya asses, face screwed up like you havin' hot flashes..." _

I liked it. I'd never heard anything like it at school. In passing cars maybe, on streetcorners, but I'd never really _heard_ it. But I heard it now, posing an obvious appeal to the girl I'd kept hidden from my family, my "friends"-and Jackson-for far, far too long. I leaned back into the seat and closed my eyes, letting the blaring music roll over me. I felt like I could doze off again, sandy ocean-smell on my face, coolish breeze in my hair. Hung my arm out the window and just completely relaxed. But then Letty killed the music and cleared her throat, and what she said killed my peaceful buzz like a bullet to the brain.

"You weren't really asleep that night, were you."

I just looked at her, my heart kicking against my ribs. I managed to shake my head briefly.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure," she said. "Dom said you were, and I…I'm sorry." _She_ was apologizing to _me_? God, now I really felt like shit, but all I could do was drop my eyes and nod a little, the heat in my cheeks almost unbearable. I cleared my throat, then attempted to speak.

"It's all right, Letty."

"It was kind of an accident," she said.

"I know," I said. "Really, it's all right."

"Have you done that before?"

"What?"

"I mean, how far have you been?"

"With Leon?" My mouth was dry, and her face was unreadable. I couldn't tell if she was mocking me or being serious.

"With anyone."

"Oh, Jeez," I said, laughing nervously. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Well, Jackson Gauthier was my high school boyfriend. Three years. I gave…Well, just once I-"

"You sucked his dick?" Letty asked, a big smile on her face, and I nodded. She said it like she was saying 'You want some fruit?' It didn't phase her at all. "Jesus, what are you so embarrassed about? Nothing wrong with suckin' dick." I couldn't stop the burst of laughter that jumped out of me.

"Jesus, Letty," I choked. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I avoid it if at all possible," she said. "My mother is dead." The smile dropped from my lips.

"Oh," I managed softly, and inwardly kicked myself. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not." She lit another cigarette. "So what about Leon?"

"What about him?"

"You suck his dick too?"

"Hell no," I said. "I haven't even touched his dick." I had to grin at the sound of that word coming out of my mouth, wondering what Payton Frey and Gabrielle Pansieri would say if they heard me talk about sucking dick.

"He go down on you?" Jesus. Again, my voice caught in my throat.

"I…I think he was trying to once, but I stopped him."

"Ooooh," she said, shaking her head. "Big mistake. That's his specialty." She flicked her tongue in a rapid reptilian flash. "He's a magician with his mouth." I felt a dull thump begin between my legs, and clenched my fists in a desperate attempt to keep my hands from gravitating to it. Then suddenly something occurred to me.

"Wait. How do _you_ know?" She chuckled throatily.

"Chill. I don't. Not firsthand, anyway. But I've heard girls rant about it before. He and Dom are always breaking each other's balls about who's the better tongue man." I laughed. My face felt hot, and it wasn't only from embarrassment. "So he's only touched you, then?" I nodded. "Did he make you come?" I shook my head slowly. "Has _anybody_ ever made you come?" Again, I shook my head, and Letty clucked her tongue. "Damn." I squirmed a little and stared out the window, and she mistook it for embarrassment. "Sorry. Am I humiliating the hell out of you?" I laughed lightly, a little more breathily than I had anticipated.

"No, it's just…I feel stupid. I don't know what to say."

"Fahgettabahdit," she said, with an exaggerated Bronx-Italian accent. "I never talk about this shit with Mia because…Well, because I fuck her brother. So it'd just be weird. But I can talk to you. I'll talk all day and you ain' gotta say shit."

"Okay, Letty." I just smiled and shook my head, and she laughed and shoved me.

"You don' know what to make-a me, do ya."

"Hell no. I don't."

"I was just here last night," she said, pulling me into the little shop of horrors with her. Out of nowhere, we had come upon this bustling city, tourist hop type place. There were actually Mexicans here, unlike the villa, which was lily white. However, the Mexicans in this city all spoke English, and they looked much like the Mexicans I knew in New York, only sunned darker. Their clothes were sleek and flashy, hair perfectly gelled/scrunched/sprayed, big hoops in the ears of the women, diamonds glinting from the lobes of the locos. Their shirts were crisp and blinding white, long, chunky loops of chain drooping down from their waistlines and climbing, glinting, to their back pockets. They had a cocky swagger in their step, and the color of them was delicious. As I looked, I saw that they were the same color as Letty. Golden.

The girl behind the counter had a shining gold necklace with an etched pendant that said 'Marisol'. She smiled brightly at Letty.

"Hola, mi amor," Letty crooned, in a singsong voice, still dragging me behind her. "This is Izzie. She needs help."

"Yeah," Marisol said, and then, in a thick accent, "She really does."

They prattled on in a spicy, mind-boggling mixture of English and Spanish as they jostled me back and forth across the store, measuring me and grabbing clothes by the armload, holding things up to my body, propping my arms and positioning my legs like a mannequin.

Then Letty and Marisol hustled me into a largish room in the back with mirrors all around and a Chinese-type changing screen. I was (literally) kicked behind it by Letty and ordered to strip, the clothes mounded at my feet.

"How much can you spend?" Letty asked, while I struggled to haul some black leather over my hips.

"As much as I want," I said. "It's my own card." She whistled between her teeth as I came to stand before her. "Letty, I look like a two dollar hooker."

"Come on," she laughed. "You do not. You look great. Turn around Lookit yer ass." I eyed her warily, then did as I'd been ordered. The skirt was stretched over my hips, and only a couple inches longer than my underwear. I had on big clumpy black leather boots with the white scrunchie tops of my socks showing over the top, and a black middy halter top. My legs looked wonderful, curvy and long and slimmed-down by the chunky boots.

"It's just the shirt," I said. "It's barely a sports bra."

"Take it off then, pura," she laughed, grabbing a scoop-necked white ribbed tank and throwing it at me. "Wear that with the black lace bra." I rolled my eyes, pulling the halter off and replacing it with a lacy black bra and the white tank, which stretched tight across my chest, clinging to my skin, and I saw immediately why Letty had wanted me to wear the two together. The neckline of the tank scooped all the way down, so the black ruffles of the bra cups peeked out, my deep cleavage pushed up and out. I sighed, feeling a little shaky for some reason, a little strange, and a lot new.

When I stepped out, a slow smile spread across Letty's face.

"Aiii!" she breathed, hugging me. "That's it. That's your look, right there." She pulled the pony out of my hair and it tumbled down around me, then she took me by the shoulders and whirled me to face the mirror. "Mira, mi Virgen. Look. Look how _sexy_ you are."

"Si," Marisol nodded. "That's hot, Leticia. Now we just have to find Tamayo and have him hook her up with some joyas." Letty grinned.

"Wait," she said. "More clothes first."

Two thousand eight hundred dollars later, the sun was setting as we pulled into the villa, smiling at the little security guard, and I was trembling out of control. I was an entirely different person…I'd had my hair, nails, and makeup done, wearing the first outfit I had tried on, and I couldn't wait to see Leon's reaction. Or Dom's.


	13. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Letty didn't even bother asking whether I wanted to go home or to her/their place. I looked at my nails-about a quarter inch long, the color of Letty's car, as we pulled into the driveway, and as she killed the engine, I started to shake. Started to get self-conscious.

The large silver hoops swung in my ears as I climbed out of the Nissan, and the thick silver chain moved against my collarbone. I had four silver rings on my right hand, one on each finger, and one thick, chunky one on my left thumb. All the metal on me felt strange, not to mention the black thong. Half my hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail on the top of my head with a white scrunchie, one long strand straightened on each side hanging to my chin and framing my face. The bottom half of my hair was in ringlets down my back. All of the hair was a little crisp, heavily sprayed. My makeup was heavy but not outrageous, my big-for-a-whitegirl lips glossy and wet. Everything was all pulled together and perfect, and inside I was an absolute wreck. What would Leon think?

Would he hate it? Love it? Would Dom think I was a big poser?

I followed Letty on rubber legs into the house.

"Hello?" she called. "Boys? You home?"

"On the beach!" came Dom's rolling, bassy boom. Letty dropped the keys on the counter with a dramatic clatter and picked up a pitcher of almost-melted margarita and sighed.

I just stood, frozen, on the two-inch treads of my $280.00 boots.

"Do I look like a whore?" I asked softly, having serious second thoughts now.

"You look slammin'," Letty said. "Don't worry. He'll love it. You want a drink?"

"Of course," I said, urgency riding high on my tone, leaning on the counter to keep me standing.

"Margarita?" I nodded.

Drinks in hand, we opened the sliding doors that led to the 200+ feet of beach behind the house. Leon and Vince sat in lawn chairs facing the water, talking about cars, shooting the shit. Brian sat in the sand, Mia lying asleep with her head in his lap. Dom stood, shirtless in baggy khakis by the grill, sweaty from standing over the coals, a cigarette between his lips.

I followed Letty over toward the side of the house where there were more lawnchairs stacked, keeping my eyes on Leon the whole time. He had a beer in his hand and a plate of food in his lap, and he was laughing heartily at something Vince had said. He still hadn't looked at me, and I was trembling all over with anticipation.

Then, finally, as we approached them with our drinks and chairs, he looked. Looked right at me as if he were trying to figure where he'd seen me before. Then I straightened the skirt and fidgeted nervously, and Insecure Virgin Izzie must have shown through the clever mask, because he recognized me then.

His jaw dropped and he popped up off the chair like the bulb on a turkey thermometer, with no regard whatsoever for his plate, which flew off his lap and landed facedown in the sand at Dom's feet.

He regained some of his composure then, visibly forcing himself to remain calm. He took a few half-drunk, bare-footed steps in the slipping warmth of the sand and slapped one hand down on Dom's shoulder.

"Hmm," Dom grunted, looking back over that shoulder at Leon, and Leon turned Dom's face toward me. Dom raised both eyebrows a little, scanned me with his eyes, and turned to Leon, grinning.

"Go, fool. What are you waiting for?"

And I smiled. Dom went back to grilling, and Leon gave me an almost shy smile. Vince was eating me alive with his eyes, and I went up to Leon, confidence galvanized by the effect I was having on him. I grabbed him by the beltloops and pulled his front to mine, smiling up into those beautiful, cool green eyes.

A shudder went through him, a strong thrill at the shock of my idiosyncratical nerve.

"God," he whispered, pressing his hips hard to mine so I could feel him through his jeans. "What are you trying to do to me?"

I chuckled breathily, then spoke, "Letty took me shopping."

"So I see."

"Think I look like a hooker?" I asked softly, dropping my gaze to the base of his throat, where the bronze of his skin met with the blinding white of his v-neck tee.

"Hell no," he said, burying his face in the crook of my neck and biting me gently, wrapping those long, well-muscled arms around me and squeezing me against him. "I think you look like dessert." I laughed a little, for once not completely awkward and frozen by his passion. I liked it. "You wanna sit out here a while or go right up to my room?"

I shivered a little, but not from fear. I swallowed harshly and tried to force a dry mouth to speak.

"I think we'd better go upstairs," I whispered.

The girl on the outside of me was seeping through my skin and taking over boring, timid Izzie, and all I wanted at that moment was all of him on all of me. Screw Dom. This was my man. This sweet, gentle soul in front of me...Asking me what I wanted, not telling me. I wanted that $700.00 outfit in a heap on the floor next to Leon's bed, wanted to feel the thick girth of him between my hips, his hips slamming against my inner thighs. I didn't know how it would feel, but I knew I wanted to feel it. He moaned a little in his throat at my response and I smiled coquettishly. "Come on, baby." I took one of his hands in mine and led him toward the house, grinning and shaking my head at Vince's war whooping.

As we mounted the stairs, I could feel those beautiful eyes burning into the back of me, and when I shoved through the door of his bedroom and turned to face him, his whole body was alive with passion. It looked as though he wanted to leap out of his skin, his hands shaking a little, lips moist, eyes gleaming, and as I stepped up to kiss him, I caught a glimpse of myself in his full-length.

Who the hell was I? And who the hell was _he_? All weak and breathless, staring at me like I was some kind of goddess.

His lips were hot and soft and I was my old self for a moment, electrified, paralyzed, by the jolt the taste of them shot through me. Then leather-sporting, thong-wearing girl came back and I drew his bottom lip into my mouth, catching it between my teeth. He closed his hands on my waist, tight, almost desperate, and my heart was thundering as I reached for his fly, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He gasped and his hands jerked, then fell from my body to hang at his sides as I reached timidly past the open fly and ran my fingertips up over the soft, pale blue cotton of his boxers and the alluring/terrifying mystery beneath.

"Izzie," he said, and his voice was tight, strangled, like his throat was crushed in someone's hand.

"What?" I looked up into his eyes from beneath thick mascara. He swallowed hard and sank to sit on the bed, clumsily, as if he'd gone legless all of a sudden.

_He_ was looking up at _me_ now, he was at my mercy, and I had no idea what to do with him.

"Touch me," he whispered, and suddenly I was me again, I was vulnerable, unsure.

"How?" I asked, my voice small, and he took me by one wrist, pulling me down next to him, and everything between my legs was satiny and slick as he guided my hand down, down over that hard, ridged stomach to the waistline of his boxers, down over the button-fly of them, where a bead of moisture had touched and spread, leaving a wet spot I had no comprehension of. What did I do to him?

Had I made him come without even trying? I picked my head up off his chest and looked up into his face.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I said, my hand shaking where he held it.

"I know," he whispered. "It's fine. Whatever you do, it's perfect."

I put my head back down on his chest, my ear over his heart, and it was thundering as hard as my own. He gripped a handful of the sheet and I wanted him so badly I could taste it. I was so aroused it almost hurt me, a heavy throb between my legs and I couldn't keep still. Then I saw it, and all of me quieted. Stilled. In awe.

I hadn't ever seen Jackson's penis. I'd never seen him come. We'd been in a coatroom at a country club, and it had been pitch black, and he'd barely even gotten past my teeth before my mouth had been full, suddenly, of salty, snot-like fluid, and I'd swallowed it fast without thinking, then sat back on my heels, dazed.

Not now. Now I could see everything. I gripped it in my hand like a baseball bat and examined it, at the swollen purplish head encircled by my thumb and forefinger and the pearlescent drop that had appeared there, glimmering golden in the setting sunlight. Impulsively, without thinking, I leaned down and touched my tongue to it, and his hips rose against his will off the bed, nudging its tip against my lips.

I pulled my mouth away from him and he buried one hand in the hair on my back.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"'Sokay," I whispered, and watched as another pearl appeared there, wanted to ask him what it was but sure it would kill the mood. I released him from my grasp and sat up, straddling his knees, hooking my fingertips under the elastic of his boxers.

He lifted up instinctively...He'd done this before. I drew the boxers down, down over his thighs between my legs, and looked at him, the hard curve up toward his belly, the heartbeat in a large vein running its length.

Yes, I was sure now.

There was absolutely no way in hell that thing was going in me.

But I was still intrigued by it, and laid down beside him, head pillowed on his ribs, and ran my fingertips over it like I was petting a cat. It rose to meet me, like it was its own entity, and I did it again, and Leon's breaths were coming fast and haggard, his jaw clenched in frustration, but he said nothing.

I pressed my thumb over the top of it and wrapped my other fingers around it, gauging his reaction and starting to feel like there was something I wasn't doing right, like I was supposed to do something more, make him come, and I didn't know how. Again, exasperated, I looked up at him.

"Tell me," I pleaded in a hoarse whisper. "Please? I want to..." I was blushing, felt awkward and insufficient. "I want to make you feel good."

He had to clear his throat three times before he could speak.

"You are, Izzie. Here." He clasped his hand over mine, and started a gentle, pumping rhythm, all the way down to where it was connected to his body, and all the way up so his head was in my palm, then back down. He did it slowly a few times, then faster, his hand over mine, and I put one leg over his legs, pressing myself against his thigh and closing my eyes with my head on his shoulder, loving the way his body was moving, the way his breathing was short and sporadic and the way his fingers were trembling, clamped on mine, and I was just still, everything so completely intense, and I felt like I was a part of him, like there was no me, only Leon left and the only thing in my world worth striving for was his release.

And it came, taking over his entire body so he seized up, and I buried my face in his throat while he trembled, his hand dropping to the bed so I held it while he came, his cheek pressed hard to my forehead.

As the blood returned to less vital organs, he shrunk back to harmless in my hand, and I looked at the stuff on my new nails and between my fingers.

"Here," he said, leaning off the side of the bed a moment and grabbing a dirty shirt, then taking my hand in one of his and wiping it with the threadbare tee before chucking it back onto the floor. He dropped his head back hard onto the bed and turned his face to look at me with this slow smile.

"What?" I asked, unable to resist smiling back, and he leaned in to kiss me, almost chastely, on the lips. I responded with an uncontrollable lust, beyond the point of return once his lips had brushed mine, and he smiled against the brutal kiss.

I was absolutely out of my mind by this point, and he knew it, hoisting up his boxers and kicking off his pants and settling between my legs on top of me, grinning down at me, one arm on either side of my face. I was not smiling. I was completely dry-mouthed with need. He saw that immediately and, whatever game he'd planned to play, he decided against it and just laid next to me, his mouth on my breast, nipping through the fabric and the harsh, itchy lace bra.

He rested one hand on the inside of my knee, and my legs fell open for him like a rose for the sun, completely of their own accord, weak and needy, and the whorling, tingling storm between them was nearly unbearable.

His fingertips slid up slowly, along my leg, up my inner thigh into the leather skirt, slipping them in underneath the thong, and when I felt him brush against my clitoris, I buckled and gasped, and his mouth became gentle suddenly. He stopped biting at me, found my lips, and pressed his softly to them, and started a firm, easy rhythm, rubbing at me with his first and middle fingers.

Each time he pressed down, a wave of insanity charged through me, this thick bolt, and as my nerves came alive under his touch the power of those waves only increased. I felt dizzy, like I was drowning, and I found myself clamping my hand on Leon's forearm, scarcely maintaining control, a surreal lightheadedness taking me over, and I couldn't breathe.

My thighs were trembling against his hand, and I opened my eyes and it was all dark and flashing stars and I felt like something inside of me was about to give, crash and burn, explode. I sat up, abruptly, gulping air, and scooted back across his bed so I was against the headboard. I hugged my knees to my chest, shaking like I was freezing and terrified of...I don't know what.

"What?" he asked, and I could feel the wideness of my eyes, how pale my face was.

"Something..." I swallowed. "Something was happening to me." He sighed, exasperated, and came and sat next to me, was going to touch me but thought better of it.

"You were so close to coming, Izzie. What's wrong?"

"I don't know," I said, and suddenly felt like I was going to cry. I covered my face with my shaking ands and bit my bottom lip, willing the tears not to flood me. I was overwhelmed, out of nowhere exhausted and wordless. "God, I feel so stupid," I said, into my hands, and then the comforting weight of his arm was on my shoulders, and he pulled me to his side.

"Don't," he said, kissing the top of my head. My face was on fire. "Don't ever feel stupid. You're not ready, you're not ready. There is _nothing_ wrong with that." With his free hand, he pushed my hands clear of my face. "You look so hot, Izzie. My god." I looked up at him shyly.

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah. Jesus. You look slammin'. I love it." I straightened my legs and crossed my ankles, looking at my boots.

"If you love it like this," I said slowly. "What the hell did you come up to me for in the first place?"

"Body," he said, shameless and straightforward, and I gaped at him. "What? Your clothes were heinous, but you couldn't hide that body in a muumuu." I laughed and socked him.

"My God! You are such a pig!"

"A nice pig, though?" Those eyes melted me, and despite his goofy remark, I was sobered by the color of his eyes, the sincerity of him as a man, and I moved in to kiss him. He cupped my face in his hands and deepened the kiss, his fingertips resting on my hairline, and his tenderness was so intense that I couldn't stop the tears now, and didn't want to. They streamed down my cheeks and broke on his skin, and I never wanted to stop kissing him.


	14. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Their house at the villa was almost a carbon copy of ours. Even the interior decorating was the same, only in different colors. and I think the walls were made out of papier mache.

There had been a quiet murmuring in the next room on and off for hours, Dom and Letty and Brian and Mia chatting quietly. I caught bits and pieces-Mia and Brian definitely wanted out of Mexico City, and Dom wasn't arguing. Vince was downstairs on the couch playing some gory game with the TV blaring, and Dom told Letty once Mia and Brian were gone that he didn't really trust Vince to behave there, either.

I didn't catch Letty's response. Their voices were quiet a while, then a little louder, so I could hear them over Leon's soft whooshing sleep-breaths.

"What about Izzie and Leon?" Letty asked.

"Izzie and Leon are not a package deal," he said. "Leon's coming. Izzie's not."

"Come on, Dom. Don't be an asshole."

"Stop. It's not personal and you know it."

"What is it then?"

"You know, Letty. We've been through it sixty fucking times."

"Bullshit. You want her." I sat up slowly, could not believe what I'd heard, and leaned my ear against the wall.

"Please, Letty. She's twelve years old."

"She's eighteen in three days," she said. "You're afraid you can't keep your dick out of her."

"I'm afraid I'll fuck up her life!" he shouted, explosively angry out of nowhere. "Jesse was JUST LIKE HER, Let. Smart, young. He coulda done anything, and I was his hero. Look where it got him. We're not goin' there for a tea party, Letty. Her father-have you seen her father? And her mother is a criminal defense lawyer."

"So what?"

"So you can't be careful enough."

"Come on. I'm not goin' if she's not."

"You're goin'."

A pause, then Letty's voice, with a little sweet seduction in it.

"I'll make it worth your trouble."

"Discussion's closed, Letty," he said, and then silence, and in my mind's eye I could just see her sulking, that terrific glare of hers fixed on him. But there was more silence, and more, and after about five minutes, I was next to positive that I would not be going to Mexico City, glare or not.

I sighed and laid down again, next to Leon, on my belly. I folded my arms and rested my head on them. Rich girl. Dad's a doctor, mom's a lawyer for Rudy Giuliani. No way in hell could I go anywhere with Dominic, and I didn't even know why.

Then, just as I was dozing off, a long, guttural moan split the noiseless night, and my eyes flew open.

Dom's voice, deep and shaky,

"Yeah. All right. She can come."

"You are absolutely not going," my father said. "Absolutely not. And what in God's name are you wearing?"

"Lawrence," my mother said. "She'll be eighteen in three days. I think-"

"They're derelicts, Carolyn," my father interjected. "The big filthy one with no brain is the pool boy, and the one that comes around here for her drives to and from the airport, hauls luggage, does repairs. And, the bald one, Mr. Muscles, sits on the beach and smokes dope all day. She's not going anywhere with them."

"Listen," my mom said, her voice stern and loud suddenly. It was the first time I'd heard her be assertive with him in years. "This is Isabel's vacation too. She is responsible, and has never given us any reason to doubt her judgement. She-"

"That _outfit_ is reason enough to doubt her judgment! Look at her!"

"Larry, you're hysterical."

"I am not hysterical. She looks like a whore."

"Don't," my mother said. "She is almost an adult. And this boyfriend of hers-"

"Is thirty years old," my father cut in again.

"STOP interrupting me," she demanded, slamming her open hand down on the countertop. I jumped, but forced the bored deadpan to remain on my face. "We're having Leo over for dinner. We are going to be civil. We are going to talk to him, and give him a chance. THEN we will make our decision."

My father was silent for a long moment, sloshed as usual, holding a tumblerful of Whisky, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He took a gulp of his drink, then pointed at my mother.

"We're having him here," he said. "I refuse to be seen in public with that piece of shit."

And then he staggered from the kitchen to the main room, plunking his drink down on top of a mahogany Steinway baby grand, flopping onto the bench. My mom sighed and leaned heavily against the counter, deflated and flushed from the enigma. She looked up at me and I smiled a little, not knowing what else to do.

"For Christ's sake," she said. "Go change your clothes."

I sat on the couch with Letty, and it was hotter than the hubs of hell, out and inside. It had taken me almost two hours to make myself a reasonable facsimile of the girl I'd been the day before, and I wore a black V-neck tank, a camel-colored suede miniskirt, and my black boots. I'd had my legs, bikini-line, armpits, and top lip waxed yesterday with Letty, so I was silky all over, and there wasn't a single man in the house to appreciate it.

"How'd the parents like the clothes?" Letty asked, and I shrugged, staring at the television.

"My father said I look like a whore," I said, and she chuckled.

"Daddy don' like Letty style?" she asked, and I shook my head. "What did they say about La Ciudad?"

"Mexico City?" She nodded. "My dad flat-out said no. My mom stuck up for me, but I think she's a little leery about it, too."

"Leery?"

"Nervous," I said, and felt awkward. "So now they want Leon over for dinner tonight to pick his brain and if he doesn't pass my father's tests, I can't go. We'll have to wait and see, but I have a feeling he'll be swimming upstream."

"Leon's gotta meet the _parents_?" She whistled long and low. "Don't worry. He's smarter than he looks."

"I know."

"You make him really happy, you know." I looked at her, pausing the game. She was somber. "We were all really worried about him." I didn't ask why, let her take her time. "Jesse...We all loved Jesse. But he and Leon grew up in the same apartment building. Their moms were tight. When Jesse died, Leon was gone. Like, he was here, but he was gone, you know? He wasn't Leon. And since he picked you up at the cabana...He's back." I nodded slowly, a chaotic variety of emotions swirling within me.

Guilt, for even thinking of another man when the one I had my hands on was so perfect. Awe, at the fact that I had brought him out of such a darkness. Anger, at Dom, for having such power over me. Fondness toward Letty. Hatred toward myself. Need to have Leon's hands and mouth on my body as they had been the night before. Confusion, because I wanted Dominic's hands on me, too.

I sat holding the game controller and staring blankly while I tried to work it all out in my head. Finally I cleared my throat and spoke.

"What happened. With Jesse, I mean."

"He was murdered," Letty said, tossing the control aside. "Two bullets to the chest. Dead before he hit the ground."

"Jesus," I gasped, the stifling heat, coupled with the shock, making it difficult to breathe. "Did they find out who did it?"

She cleared her throat.

"What time is dinner tonight? Does Leon know about it?"

"I don't know, and no," I said quietly, still shocked.

"He doesn't have any nice clothes," she said. "I'll have to take him to get something respectable."

"My dad's an asshole," I said. "He's gonna shoot to kill and Leon won't win no matter what he does, no matter what he wears."

"What won't I win?"

And there he was. Fresh from a swim in nothing but white mesh basketball shorts, his slim but well-defined shoulders glistening with beads of saltwater as he scrubbed his hair with a white hand towel.

"Nothing," I said, and he smiled at me. My God, those eyes. He'd win over anyone, to anything, with those eyes.


	15. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Let me get this straight," he said, stepping out of the white shorts and standing before me in…nothing. How was I supposed to carry on normal conversation with his gleaming golden body naked as the day he was born three feet in front of me? It took a genuine physical effort to tear my eyes up his body and focus them on his face. "I'm having dinner with your family at your house?" I nodded. "Tonight." Nodded again. "And your father wants me under inspection." I looked at my hands, then nodded. "And if I don't meet his standards?"

"I can't go," I said.

"Well, Jesus Christ, Izzie!" He looked truly, genuinely upset. "That's a disgusting thing to do, you know. Bring the trash home for dinner and let Daddy-o rip me apart."

"Leon," I said, swallowing hard and looking up at him, feeling my heart fall. "I didn't think you'd…"

"Didn't think I'd mind? Why, is he gonna open his best Scotch and pour me a drink and sit on the couch and talk about cars with me? Is he gonna show me his gun collection and shoot the shit about the Lakers? Come _on_, Izzie. It's fucking despicable, what you're doing here. Pitting us against each other like this."

"Leon! I didn't do it! My _mother_ made the suggestion. He wasn't going to let me see you at all, much less go, and she convinced him to invite you over, give you a chance."

"See if I pass the test." He was stepping into boxers and socks but I wasn't gaping at his body anymore. I felt like I'd be sick. He wasn't happy with me, and I didn't really understand why. I had hurt him, he was in defense-mode, and I did not know how to fix it. "See if the poor boy is up to par."

"I'm sorry," I said softly, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would be a big deal like this. It's all right. Don't come, it's all right. I just…I just thought you wanted me to go." I couldn't meet his gaze, felt like I would cry and was bound and determined not to. I WOULD NOT be a stupid, sniveling kid in front of him.

"Don't even make this about that," he said. "Because you know it's not. Of course I want you to go. I made the worst fucking fool of myself in front of Dom, begging him to let you come along." _Didn't do much good_, I thought wryly. I owe that part of things to Letty… "But the way you set this up…It's shitty, Izzie. You didn't ask me, you didn't even know if I had to work. You're lucky I don't. And you didn't give me any warning at all. I don't even have anything to wear. And I'll be goddamned if I'm gonna spend money on good clothes just for this."

"Letty said she'd take you shopping."

"Yeah," Leon scoffed, tugging on a pair of faded old blue jeans with a hole at the bottom of his butt. "Your parents were THRILLED when she took YOU shopping."

"Don't get any different clothes then," I said. "It doesn't matter. I know when they get to know you they'll-"  
>"Izzie, <em>you<em> don't even know me! Jesus!"

"Of course I know you, Leon, I-"

"How old am I?" I blinked, shook my head, and looked at my hands.

"I don't know."

"Twenty-five. What's my last name?"

"Leon, please, this is st-"

"Librizzi. Where am I from?"

"I don't fucking care!" I said, finally. "Jesus Christ! What the hell does all that matter? None of that has anything to do with who you are. And if you don't want to come, don't come, but don't be this way with me."

"Of course I'm coming," I said. "I'm just telling you I'm pissed about the way you handled this. Springing this shit on me."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are," he said. "It's all right." His features softened. "And you know what? Don't be. Don't be. It's not you I'm pissed at. It's not you." He came over to me, put one knuckle under my chin and lifted my face to his. "It's me, Izzie. I'm pissed because I'm a piece of shit. I've never done anything decent with my life and I know I won't measure up."

"If you don't," I said, "It won't be your fault. It will be my father. He's bound and determined to hate you."

"Well, there's nothing I can do about that. And what you see is what you get, Izzie. I don't know how to be anyone else. So if I'm not good enough for him…There's really nothing else I can do." I nodded, and he leaned in and kissed my mouth. He tasted salty from the ocean, his lips warm and wet and slippery, and he pressed forward when I responded, covering me with his cool, damp body. I opened my legs to him and grinned up at him as he laid there, still. "Except maybe kidnap you. That's not completely out of the question." I laughed and kissed him again. _That's right, Leon. You and me against the world._

I sat on the couch and watched the seconds tick down until eight o' clock, sulking because my parents were both angry with me. I had refused their not-so-subtle requests to change into 'something respectable.' I sat slumped, with my arms folded over my chest, on the white suede couch in the living room, in a camel suede miniskirt and a black pour-me-into-it spandex baby tee with capped sleeves, my legs spread crassly in the direction of the television, my feet in the chunky black boots and white socks, scowling horribly. The bell sounded at the door and my mother moved to get it, my father sitting at the piano and plunking around, wearing an ivory linen suit, my mother in a long white linen dress with tank sleeves. I started slowly toward the door, and I couldn't believe the man I saw there. Black cotton flat-front dress-pants, a crisp white dress shirt with the top button open, gleaming black patent-leather shoes. He held a bouquet of roses and baby's breath. To this day, I have no idea where he found them. And my mother smiled warmly at him.

"Hello, Leon. You look wonderful. Come on in."

"Thank you," he said, and handed her the flowers, and once my mother had the bouquet, I saw that he had brought a bottle of wine, as well. Bless him. Get my father sloshed and maybe he'll behave.

"Lawrence," my mother said. "Leon's here." My father looked up and nodded his hello, didn't move to shake his hand or say a word or two of encouragement. But then I'd expected no more than that smug 'you're a piece of shit and everyone knows it' nod, that indirect acknowledgement he used on people he didn't deem worthy of the effort it took to speak.

"Hey, Izzie," Leon said, and I smiled, coming to stand at my mother's elbow.

"I'm just finishing with supper," my mom said. "Just have to let the sauce boil a little longer." Leon sauntered easily after her, standing beside her and staring down into the pot.

"Italian?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Spinach manicotti with marinara and breadsticks, salad, cheesecake for dessert." She shrugged as if she'd gone to no trouble at all.

"Mmmm," he said. "Wonderful. Are you Italian? Your hair is so dark."

"No, I'm not, but it's a common mistake," she said, laughing a little and smiling up at him. Completely smitten and charmed. Excellent. "I'm Welsh, actually. One hundred percent Welsh. And Lawrence is…Well, I don't know. English and some other things. What's your last name?"

"Librizzi," he laughed. "I'm Italian."

"You have such fair hair and light eyes," she said. "Are you full-blooded Italian?"

"Full blooded," he said, smiling.

"Well, then, you'd better taste this and let me know how I'm doing," she said, and pulled a clean spoon from the drawer. I stood in the kitchen's entryway and watched her feed him a spoonful of her sauce, and he rolled his head back, letting his lashes flutter, completely and totally exaggerating.

"It's heavenly," he said, and she laughed and blushed a little, tossing the spoon in the sink, but couldn't keep from looking up at his blinding smile again. My father shook his head and headed to the bar. I could hear ice clanking in his glass and he was rustling around for his Whisky.

"Want a drink, Leon?" my mom asked, over-loud, and my father turned to glare at her.

"Ah, thank you, but no," Leon said. "Where do you want the wine, Mrs. Adams?"

"Please, call me Carolyn. And here, I'll take it. I'm just about ready, if you three want to sit down I'll bring things to the table."

We sat and made small talk while my mother brought everything to the table and set it before us, brought four beautiful crystal wine flutes and set them before us, poured some even for me.

"This is beautiful Bordeaux," she said. "It must have cost you a fortune." He shook his head.

"It's fine."

"Shall we have a prayer?" my mom asked, finally sitting, and my father sighed loudly, but folded his hands, and Leon nodded, doing the same. We bowed our heads and listened to the pretty simplicity of my mother's prayer. "Bless this food, help us to receive the nourishment of body as our faith in You provides our nourishment of soul. Keep us safe from harm and lead us to do Your will always. Amen." We echoed her closing word and she smiled warmly at all of us, removing the blue cotton kerchief that covered the breadsticks. I hoped for more of this easy banter, but my father had different ideas. Always. He was through with the comfortable bullshitting. Ready to get down to business.

"Tell me, Leon," he said. "What high school did you go to?"

"PS20 in New York," he said, and my mother and I were silent. The interrogation was on its way, and there was nothing we could do to stop it. I could only hope it was like ripping off a bandaid-quick and brutal. Yet the sensible part of me knew that quick was not my father's M.O. He was going to draw this out and watch Leon squirm.

"What was your class ranking?"

"I dropped out midway through my senior year," Leon said, his voice level, not ashamed, dumping parmesan on his plate.

"Really," my father stated. "But surely you've since gone back?"

"No," Leon said. "I've been working in a friend's garage. I know everything there is to know about cars."

"I see. Could this friend possibly be one of the boys staying with you here?"

"Yes, sir," Leon said. "Dominic Toretto."

"I don't see him working much. He's always on the beach in a lawn chair, isn't he?"

"Yes," Leon said. "He hasn't been well lately. He got into a horrible car accident and none of it was his fault. He got hurt, and he got a lot of money. He doesn't have to work right now, or for the rest of his life, really."

"And he brought you all with him."

"Yes," Leon said.

"Lucky you," my father muttered, and it was so uncharacteristically colloquial of him that I had to laugh. He swallowed the last of his Whisky and then clattered the ice around in the empty glass at my mother. She put her fork down mid-way to her mouth and took his tumbler, walking to the bar. Leon raised his eyebrows at me, but said nothing, prepping himself for the next line of fire. He didn't have long to wait.

"How old are you?"

"I'm almost twenty-six," Leon replied.

"And your friend?"

"He's twenty-seven, I think."

"And the big filthy one? With body odor?"

"Vince?" Leon couldn't help but smile. "I think he's twenty-seven too. He grew up with Dominic." My father cleared his throat and ran his finger along the outer rim of his glass. He was building up to something, I could tell.

"All my friends here," my father began slowly, "Have said their daughters are spending time at your place. Is there something you all find unsettling about women your own age?" Leon laughed, but his eyes were cold.

"We don't invite any of these teenage girls, Mr. Adams. They just flock to Dom and we don't have the heart to send them away."

"No, you don't send them away. You get them drunk and-"

"We don't get them drunk. The coolers are sitting on the floor with the lids down. In order to get drunk, they need to walk to one of them, open it, pull out a beer…We don't even offer them beer. If they're drunk, they get that way on their own. It's our home. They're our guests. We have a duty to entertain them, not baby-sit them. There's a big difference. You don't want them at our house, you need to spend less time bombed and bangin' on the beach and more time with your children."

I literally sank down in my seat, wanting the floor to open up and swallow me. I couldn't look at Leon. I couldn't look at my father. My mom reached over to pat my hand and I jerked it away.

No tirade came from my father, though. He sat holding his drink and calculating his response. I waited, everything rigid and silent.

"You're absolutely right," he said finally. "BUT that doesn't explain your presence here tonight. This is not entertaining. You're dating my daughter. That goes above and beyond the call of a gracious host, does it not?"

"I guess," Leon said, sitting up straighter and sipping his wine. "But _she's_ above and beyond the other rich little snobs that run in and out of my house. She's smart, she's funny, she's mature-"

"She's seventeen years old. Are you responsible for the drastic downfall of her fashion sense?"

"No," Leon chuckled. "Dom's girlfriend took her shopping."

"She looks like a whore. Is Dom's girlfriend a whore?"

"No."

"Is Dom's girlfriend of age?"

"Of course."

"But Izzie is not," my father said. "Have you slept with her?"

"Dad, my God!" I blurted, choking on the words and my mortification. My father didn't even look at me, just held a hand up in my direction for me to be quiet, never breaking his gaze with Leon.

"No," Leon said. "I have not had sex with her." He was so calm, so businesslike. I wished to god that some of that would rub off on me.

"She'll be eighteen in three days," my father stated smoothly.

"Yes, I know."

"Got big plans?" I looked at my dad like he was a mutant, my face hot and flushed.

"No, sir, just going to Mexico City with Dom and Vince, and maybe Dom's sister Maria. We're going to stay in a hotel, lounge in the AC."

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant," Leon interrupted. "No, I'm not gonna fuck Izzie in Mexico City."

"That was a fairly tasteless answer."

Leon shrugged.

"It was a fairly tasteless question." He gazed coolly at on my father with those clear green eyes.

"What about your future?" my father asked, nonchalant, as though Leon's reproach hadn't reached him. "Plan to drive that company Lexus to and from the airport all your life, or have you thought of a way to perhaps drive your own one day?"

"Actually, this trip to the city is for business. Dominic is meeting with some gentlemen there who had some work done by him in Los Angeles, and they're interested in perhaps being partners."

"An autobody shop?" My father was a little incredulous.

"An autobody chain," Leon said. "Centering in Tijuana and Mexico City, maybe in Baja too. They're not sure yet, we're going to discuss financing and other details."

"I see," he said. "And you say this other girl…Maria will be there?"

"Yes, and Letty," Leon said. "Dom's girl."

"How old is Letty?" my mother asked. I couldn't believe it…My father looked completely relaxed, he had come out of murder mode, and my mother thought him calm enough to venture in a question. Excellent.

"Twenty-two," Leon and I replied in unison.

"And Maria?"

"Mia's twenty-one, I think," Leon said, reaching for another breadstick.

"Not much older than Izzie," my mom mumbled, with a hopeful glance in the direction of my father.

"No," Leon said, "And she's a college girl, too, studying accounting at UCLA. She's had straight-A's all through school…" He shrugged.

"And Letty?" My father was approaching 'drunk.'

"Letty's an automotive whiz kid," Leon grinned. "A total tomboy. Only course she ever took was on airbrush detailing, and that was held in a dingy garage in Santa Monica." There was a silence. And then...

"Do you care about Izzie, Leon?" my mother asked, and he nodded, somberly.

"Listen, I don't blame either of you for being concerned. I'm much older than she is, you don't know me, and I've only known Izzie for a week or two. Believe me…I don't make a habit out of dating teenagers. And I don't fall head over heels. Ever. But with Izzie, it's different. I hang on everything she says, I can't wait to hear her views on things…She makes me think, makes me want to be better, and I do genuinely care about her. I'm no predator. I don't want her to do anything she's not ready for." He looked pointedly at my father. There was a long hush.

"I don't know about you, Lawrence," my mom began slowly, "But I think he's a fine young man."

"She can go," my dad nodded, finishing off his drink, eyes locked on Leon's. "But I dare you…Just give me one reason…" He stood and teetered into the other room, and I couldn't stop the giddy grin from spreading across my face. Leon kicked me lightly under the table and I jumped, laughing out loud.

"We'll have your birthday party when you get back." My mom…Her words didn't touch me. It was as if I were hearing her from underwater, and all I could think, over and over, in a singsong voice in my head, was…

_Goin' to Mexico City, Goin' to Mexico City._

Yeah. Goin' to Mexico City.


	16. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

We rode in a black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows and giant tires that protruded about two inches from the body, flashy chrome rims with spokes that looked like knives, and silver flames on the hood. Dom drove, and Letty and Vince followed behind us in her Viper. Dom was brooding and somber, dark eyes concealed by silver shades, a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. He kept looking in the rearview mirror over his shades, and when I turned around, I saw that Vince was sleeping and Letty didn't look much happier than Dom.

So I followed Leon's example and just was quiet. Dom had made Letty and I change out of our skank clothes and into two of my dresses. The effect on Letty bordered on hilarious, and I grinned now, seeing her as she had been a few hours ago, hair in her face, arms folded over her chest, scowling horrifically.

"Stop," Dom had said. "These are professionals. You can be a girl for one weekend."

I dropped my head into Leon's lap and stared up at him, and he smiled down at me, cupping the side of my face in his hand. I closed my eyes, a soft smile on my lips, and thought of all the things those fingers had done to me, and as my thoughts got away from me, I swallowed hard, felt blood rush to my nipples, and squirmed a little. Leon saw right through me, and when I opened my eyes and looked up at him, he was smirking. He moved his hand down off my face and rested it over my breast, and my back arched into his touch without my permission.

"AWOL, Dom," he said, and Dom nodded without looking back. I looked up at Leon.

"What?"

"Means we're busy," he said. "We're goin' AWOL. In other words, don't look." I laughed, and I looked at Dom in the rearview. He was smiling a little. Leon covered my mouth with his and I closed my eyes. He took my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I felt an irrepressible urge to move my hips, biting down on my bottom lip. He lifted his hand a minute, then slipped it into the neckline of my hideously sensible powder blue sundress. He worked his fingertips into the cup of my bra and brushed them lightly over my bare nipple, eliciting this low moan from somewhere inside of me and I have no idea where it came from. I blushed a little but didn't open my eyes, turned my face into the hardish wall of his stomach and gripped his white cotton dress shirt in one hand. He leaned over, with his free hand, and caught the hem of my skirt, pulling it up over my thighs to rest on my hips, and he drew a shaky breath as he slipped that hand into the waistline of my white velour thong, cupping me, his other fingers a steady pulse on my chest, and he pressed down with two of his fingers, slipping them up between my lips until they hit me right on the rocket, and I almost jumped out of my skin, let my legs fall open, one of them dropping to the floor, and I covered his hands with mine, shaking out of control. I was vaguely aware of Dom, wondered if he was looking, but didn't really care; I owed him one.

Leon used my own wetness as lubrication, and everything was slick and hot. I bit down hard on my lip to keep quiet as I felt it all building again, that steady thrum from before, the mounting urgency, only this time I wasn't afraid. I wanted it, wanted to feel this. The Escalade was suddenly airless…I couldn't pull in deep enough breaths, was gasping, but I felt like I was yanking water into my lungs. My heart started pounding, thundering and there was this crazy weakness in my knees. This tingling was spreading up from the apex of my thighs into my lower belly and lingering there, growing more and more intense and I was a little panicky but couldn't stop him, didn't want to, and then, suddenly, something gave and broke and everything came crashing down around me. In movies I'd seen, women had screamed and called out and carried on, but I went silent. Completely silent, my head spinning, holding my breath, and everything between my legs was throbbing against his hand, these wild waves of sensation rolling over me with each pulse, until it faded and left me awash in this warm, humming calm. I didn't want to open my eyes, and I knew I couldn't speak, so I didn't try, because I wanted it to last forever. Only Dom's gentle laughter shook me from it all, and that low, full voice,

"Well, there you have it." Leon pulled his hands out of my dress, and I opened my eyes and blinked up at him. He put one hand in my hair and the other on the plane of my stomach and smiled softly down at me, the faint hint of a blush in his cheeks from Dom's comment, but there was no redness in mine. I didn't care what Dom had seen and heard. Leon had just shown me what all the fuss was about. I felt this slow sort of smile spread across my face and I rolled onto my side and hid in his stomach. I wanted to say 'I love you' but I didn't know how he would respond, especially in front of Dom. So I just clenched his white shirt in my fists and smiled into his belly.

We drove long into the night, and somewhere near sunset, I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes, I was alone in the giant SUV, and it was quite dark. I sat up and saw Leon, Vince and Dom standing with cigarettes, Letty sitting, cross-legged, barefoot, barely awake, on the hood of the Viper. I climbed out of the back seat and she waved me over, her skin made almost green by the fluorescent lights of the gas station. I leaned against the beautiful car and she grinned, reached out and tousled my hair.

"What's going on?"

"Dunno," she said, offering me her cigarette, and I shook my head. "Dom bein' a fucker?" Again, I shook my head.

"Just being quiet."

"If he'd be half as quiet around me as he is around everyone else, we wouldn't have such a problem." I laughed, and she couldn't resist half a smile, shaking her head.

"You guys fighting?" I asked, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Constantly."

"You look nice in a dress, Letty," I smirked, and she faked a punch my way.

"Shut up." She flicked her cigarette and lit a new one. "Dom's gonna give us some money to get some proper evening wear as soon as we get to the hotel. He says we're a disgrace."

"That dress you have on right now was six hundred dollars," I said, then laughed as she pulled it out away from her chest. There was a bout two inches of air between her skin and the fabric.

"Not everyone's born with a heavenly rack like you, Isabel," she stated wryly, and I cracked up and folded my arms over my chest self-consciously. The boys were talking in hushed tones, and Letty and yawned and stretched, slow and graceful as a cat, not taking her eyes off Dom. "Wanna ride the rest of the way with me? Vince is shitty company. You can drive the Viper. Rrrrowr." I grinned at her, and nodded.

"Sure, unless Leon objects."

"Sweet. I'll probably fall asleep, but all you have to do is follow Dom anyway."

So I was back behind the wheel of the Viper, and readily so. Even though she was exhausted and sober, Letty was a riot. She blabbed to me about how stupid Dom was.

"Does he think I don't know? Does he think I'm retarded? I SAW him looking at her. That means he either fucked her or he's planning on it. Asshole. Then I approach him about it and he's all like, Who, me? Like it hurts his feelings I would even THINK he's…Jesus. ASSHOLE! My God, why am I with him?"

"I don't know," I said softly, shaking my head.

"I have totally had it with his shit. Every time he does it, I forgive him and I'm like, this is the last time. And then he does it again. And I'm like, that's it, this is the last time. And then he does it again. Jesus."

"Has he admitted to doing it?"

"Shee-it. I've CAUGHT him doing it."

"My ex went to the Florida Keys on Spring Break and got one of my best friends pregnant," I said.

"Oh, Christ," Letty sighed. "How long had you been together?"

"Three years." She whistled long and low.

"You were with him for three years and you're a virgin?"

"I told you about him, Letty. He's the one who-"

"Oh, yeah. I remember. You sucked his dick once." I burst out laughing.

"Yeah."

"Did you suck Leon's yet?"

"No."

"Come on, Izzie," she said, in a pleading, whiney voice. "Suck his dick. He NEEDS it. Poor baby." I was laughing so hard I could scarcely breathe and I couldn't see to drive. "His balls must be bluer than his eyes by now. Don't be so mean."

"I gave him a handjob," I managed in my defense, gasping for breath. "And his eyes are green." She smiled.

"You gave him a handjob, huh?"

"Yes."

"And? He pay you for your trouble?"

"He tried, but I stopped him."

"You WHAT?"

"I stopped him. I freaked," I said, my face burning. She gave me this irritated look.

"So you wouldn't let him make you come. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I DID, eventually," I said. "Just not then and there."

"When? And where?"

"Couple hours ago. In the Escalade."

"In the _Escalade_?" she shrieked. "With Dom driving? My GOD that's wicked! Was that the first time you ever came?" I nodded shyly, and Letty pounced me, hugging me and nearly knocking us off the road.

"GIRL! We are partying. Pull over. Pull this bitch over right now." I swerved and stopped alongside the curb as we came into the heart of Mexico City. She rolled down the window and climbed up so she was sitting on the frame. A group of men were standing, dressed beautifully and smoking, outside a salsa club, and she grinned.

"HEY!" she shouted at them. "Hey, listen! Oye! This girl just had her first orgasm."

"Oh my fucking God," I said, and grabbed the hem of Letty's dress.

"Did you give it to her?" one of the men asked, grinning lasciviously and stepping forward. Letty was laughing so hard she was making no sound, and as I squealed the Viper out of there, she stuck her head out the window and shouted,

"HELL YES, I DID." Then she flopped down on the seat and shook her head, grinning over at me. "Damn. It's about fucking time. God, don't you just wanna roll down the window and scream it out to everyone? Isn't it in-fucking-credible?"

"I think you handled the window thing," I muttered, still the color of a beet. "But yes, it was."

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"Yes, you are."


	17. Chapter 18

**Chapter Nineteen**

Dom was gone all the next day, as were Leon and Vince, leaving Letty and I to our own devices.

The device of the day, it seemed, was room service kitty cocktails with vodka, and by quarter after one in the afternoon, both of us were completely shitfaced.

We got our suits on and staggered to the pool area, stripped down, and climbed into the sauna, laughing like hyenas until both of us started blacking out from the combination of heat and booze. Drenched in sweat, we jumped into the cool relief of the pool, and I felt like I would vomit, clinging to the gutter with my stomach lurching and my face over the drain.

"Y'all right?" Letty asked, and I laughed, puking up in my throat and swallowing it back down.

"I think I'm gonna pass out."

"Well, let's get you upstairs so you can do it in the safety of your own bed." I yawned loudly, and she cracked up. "God damn, you're a cheap date."

I woke up feeling like my skull was split in half and my guts were full of seaweed. I wore nothing but my suit, but someone had thrown a blanket over me. I opened my eyes and rubbed at the crust in my lashes. Blinked over at the other bed and Dom was on top of a still-drunk and still-drinking Letty, who was grinning up at him with a beer in one hand and his butt in the other, and Dom was smiling into her throat.

They looked over at me as I sat up, and I made a line for the bathroom, falling to my knees and hurling into the toilet. I didn't want to go back into THAT ROOM, where they were fucking, where Dom was fucking her and just the night before...I puked again, then sat huddled on the tile, my hair horrible from the chlorine, in my ugly black grandma swimming suit, hugging my knees to my chest.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on my knees and dozed off again, waking up in bed.

"We're all going out," Letty said, and I must have slept longer and harder than I thought, because Letty was dressed with murderous intent and semi-sober.

"How'd I get back in bed?" I croaked. My god, I was exhausted.

"Dom," she said. "Come on. Get up. We're gonna go out. Without the Torlones. Get dressed."

"Out where?" I sat up slowly. The headache was a little better.

"Dancing," she said.

The club was called Elias, and it was packed. The music was American. Rap, probably. Thumping hard in my chest the minute we walked in. Dominic was so gorgeous, in baggy jeans and a white ribbed tank top, white Adidas Superstars and a white Nike beanie. His wallet chain glinted, along with the silver rope around his neck, the bling at his knuckles, and the hoop in his ear.

Leon was in all black, not bad himself, his curls just peeking out from beneath a black skullcap, wearing a black wifebeater and black cargos, black leather Lugz. He was in a good mood...All of us were. Leon took my hand and squeezed it and kissed my cheek, and I smiled, the headache all but gone.

Most of the people dancing were Mexican, but there were some gringos thrown in here and there. Some were dressed glitzy and flashy, some were dressed like myself and Letty, some like rhinestone cowboys. There was an absolutely enormous disco ball hanging over the center of the dance floor, which was black and white tiling, and a strobe light was making everyone's movements seem jolted and irregular, and tube blacklights ran over all the booths, making our teeth green and our shirts purple, and Dom smirked at Leon, who was looking longingly at the booths and tables.

"Don't even think about it," Dom said. "You _will_ dance tonight. Your girl is a dancer, you know? Studied with Ballanchine's in New York." I gaped at Dom. "She was in the Nutcracker."

"Isn't he creepy?" Letty asked, laughing huskily. "He's spooky. It's that damn laptop of his. He can get anything on anyone."

"Yeah," Dom said, and was suddenly sober. "Had a good teacher." He looked around at all of us and forced a grin. "Gonna let me dance with your girl, Leon?" he asked, and Leon cracked up.

"She still gonna be a virgin when you're done with her?"

Dom grinned.

"Doubtful."

I burst out laughing, and Letty punched him, but she was smiling.

"Of course you can," Leon said, being serious now. "But it's up to her."

"Wanna go, Izzie? We'll let Letty give Leon some more lessons."

"Good luck, Iz." Letty squeezed my shoulder as I walked by. I stuck my tongue out at her, but I was reeling inside, going mad, immediately. He pulled me out onto the floor and the people parted before him like the Red Sea. Took us right to the center of everything and turned and smiled lasciviously down on me.

"You know how to shake your ass, Isabel?"

I blushed, but didn't break his gaze, nodding, and he leaned in close to me, those black eyes searing my flesh as they swept the length of my body. "Good. Because I can touch you however I want here, and it's only dancing." A blind shiver shot through me, and I nodded again, and he took my hands in his and put them on his hips. "I want you to tell me if you need me to stop."

What I remember about the ensuing ten minutes of my life is a collage in pieces, sensations, thoughts, smells, sounds. I was hyperventilating. The world was a rush of battering bass and screaming color. My head was light and I was more aroused than I'd ever been in my short, sad life.

I was someone else entirely, despite how I was feeling, cool and calm as he ran his hands over my body, as we moved together, as he spun me, grabbed my hips and tugged me back, pulled my ass into his lap. I remember his smile on my throat, the rough denim of his jeans against the bare backs of my thighs, the tripping trail of his fingertips up my stomach, his hand at the center of my back, bending me over, the sheen of salty sweat on him as he pulled me to him and pulled one of my thighs up onto his waist, giant shoulders bulging and glimmering under the strobe, and I remember the senseless, weightless confusion as he dipped me, the delicious pull of neglected muscles as my back arched, way back, so I felt my hair brush my calves. I put my hands on his pecs and locked my eyes on him and made my way down, until my face was just inches from his crotch, licked my lips and grinned up at him through thickly mascara-ed lashes, and stood up rapidly, fluidly, and some spectators laughed as he let his head drop back and moaned. I remember giant hands dropping down from my waist, gripping my ass through the suede of my mini and slamming my hips against his, and he was hard.

When the song stopped, he bumped my chin up with one of his knuckles, and his barrel chest was rising and falling with every breath.

"You're crazy, Isabel. You know that?"

I couldn't say anything. I felt like I was going to cry. We had to go sit down now, with _them_, pretend there was nothing...I wanted him to take me in those enormous arms and hold me. But he didn't. He couldn't. And I couldn't ask him to. He turned his back on me and walked away, disappeared into the throbbing mess of people.

I went to the dingy little restroom and sat on the toilet, hugging myself and trying to keep from crying. I felt shaky and overwhelmed. Felt "old Izzie" flood back to me. I couldn't help it. I had to cry. And it started out as just a hot wetness in my cheeks, but soon I was gasping out pitiful sobs.

The bathroom door swung open, and I watched the chunky black boots approach my stall, and then they disappeared. What the fuck...?

My heart leapt and hammered in my chest as the person flew at my door and a huge clang rattled the poor thing on its hinges. I looked up to see Letty holding a pull-up on my stall, her chin hooked over the edge, grinning down at me.

"'Smatter, baby?" she asked, and I dropped my head in my hands, unable to meet her gaze, then slipped to the floor, turned around, and threw up. She dropped to her feet again and kicked the door.

"Open up, Mizz Izz," she said. Weakly, I undid the latch. "You shouldn't be bootyshakin' when you're hungover."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"I feel like I'm gonna die."

"Come on back and sit down . Sit STILL. You'll feel better." I stood and she threw one arm around me, looking at me searchingly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'll live." _As long as I get to fuck your fiance in the near future..._

"You dance all right, you know that?" She awarded me with a rare, warm smile.

"Thanks, Let."

The following day I woke and rolled over in the bed, and Leon was smiling at me.

"Hey, baby," he said, and I yawned, smiling.

"Hey yourself." I glanced over my shoulder and saw Dom sitting at the end of his bed, in a short-sleeved pale blue dress shirt that had kind of a sheen to it, cotton with some stretch woven in, white Dickies, heavy brown leather sandals.

"Wanna go with him?" Leon asked. "He's got some work to do and I don't want him going alone, and certain people-" Letty flipped him the bird "certain people refuse to get their asses out of bed."

"Certain people don't know how to behave in public," Dom said, and she kicked him with both feet in the ass.

I laughed.

"Where's he going?"

"Look at real estate so we have some ideas to present to the Torlones," Leon said. "We figured you've got a big ol' brain, you'd be better off going than Letty and I anyway." I moaned, sitting up slowly.

"You really want me to go?"

"Get dressed," Dom gruffed, and Leon looked at him.

"Dom wants you to go," Leon said, not taking his gaze off of Dominic's face. There was something there I hadn't seen before, something hard and unhappy and suspicious. What had happened while I'd been sleeping? What had changed. "Letty." Leon was almost pleading now. "Letty, get your ass up and go with your man."

"I don't know jack shit about reality," she grunted into her pillow, and I couldn't help but smile, nervously.

"Go," Leon muttered, planting a soft kiss on the small of my back, still not dropping his eyes from Dom. "Go ahead."

"You sure?"

"Get dressed," Dom demanded again. "Let's go."

I turned around, closed my eyes, and kissed Leon, long and strong and without stopping for breath.  
><em>It's okay. I love you. Calm down<em>. The message seemed to come across loud and clear, because he dropped back into the pillow and let his eyes fall shut. I drummed my fingers on his bare chest and he smiled softly.

"When will you be back?" he asked, and Dom shrugged as I got up and headed into the bathroom to transform.

"Dinner." I heard Dom go to the dresser and slide back one of the drawers.

"Jesus Christ. What are you doing with that?"

"Calm down, Leon. It's in case of emergencies."

"I don't know what the fuck you're doing. And that's a normal thing. I just hope like hell YOU know what you're doing for a change."

"Watch yourself," Dom said. "Izzie, move your ass." And he left the hotel room, slamming the door.

"You do not have to go anywhere with him," Leon called to me in the bathroom, and I sighed shakily. I had missed something. I was lost. Again. I finished dressing, and when I opened the bathroom door, standing barefoot with curly hair tamed in a long braid down my back, I slammed directly into Leon's chest. "I mean it. If you don't want to go…"

"It's all right."

"Like hell it is. He's being a prick."

"It'll be all right," I repeated, stepping into some simple brown sandals of my own and smoothing the front of the blue sundress.

As I swung open the passenger side door of the Escalade, Dom greeted me with what I guess was supposed to serve as an apology; a hesitant sort of half-smile, peering at me over black shades.

"This is gonna be boring as fuck," he said, as I settled and strapped in. "But I need someone with taste to keep me on my toes."

"What's the gun for?"

"What do you think?" He leveled me with an eyeless glare and I silenced, shrinking up against the door and closing my eyes. My back ached and all my muscles were stiff. I thought it was probably from dancing, but it was right around that time, too…I was just about due to get my period, and was glad I had come prepared. There were so many things I was unclear on, so many things I wanted to ask Dominic, but I couldn't bring myself to open my mouth about any of it. _What the fuck was that last night, buddy? Huh? And what are we looking at real estate for? Real estate for what? An auto garage? I think not…And how dare you be so fucking gorgeous?_

I closed my eyes, more than a little confused, and a bit pissed, on top of that. He treated me like shit. Treated all of us like shit…We belonged to him. We were all his property, and he treated us as such. I could still feel him, his hands on me, his breath on my face, and it made me insane, made my skin burn and my face flush and my hands shake. I could smell him, sitting there, and it was infuriating. I wanted him so bad I could taste it, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. Leon was perfect. Dom was an asshole. And I was an idiot.

"Izzie, listen," he said, completely out of the blue. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about this whole fucked up thing."

I looked at him, scanning his face carefully. He wasn't bullshitting me. He looked stressed and unhappy.

"I'm sorry too."

"Are you? What the hell for?"

"For being….For…" I blushed and had to turn my face away, muttering, "I don't fucking know. For liking you."

"You're sorry for liking me?" He snorted. "That's fucking ridiculous."

"I'm sorry."

"What for now?"

"For being fucking ridiculous," I said, and he pulled over, putting one arm over the back of my seat and swiping his glasses off his deep brown eyes with the other hand.

"You can't help who you're attracted to, Izzie. It's physical. It's a fucking chemical reaction in your body that you have nothing to do with. Only thing you can help is what you do about it. And we are not doing anything wrong. So quit beating yourself up and just have fun while you're here, you know?" He was serious but not nasty, and smiled when he finished speaking. "Allright?"

What could I say to that? I could only nod. I couldn't stop the tears from flooding to my eyes, and I swallowed down this thick lump. I felt weak and shaky, like my whole life was out of control, whirling away from me, and I had no idea how to stop it, to control it. Dom's diplomatic kindness had taken me completely aback, and I shook my head slowly, turning my face away from him.

"You're tired. You're hungover. And you're only 18 years old. You just need some decent food and some rest." He tousled my hair with one big paw and smiled. "Let's stop somewhere."

He pulled into the tiny, ten-car parking lot of a dingy little restaurant with tables outside and in, and we sat together in a booth. He was right; I was starving and I was exhausted. I ordered some tacos and Mountain Dew and was nodding off as we waited for our food. He was quiet. He was humbled. By my guilt, perhaps? By my tears? By the fact that he had become physically aroused dancing with me the night before? A combination of the aforementioned?

I remembered, out of nowhere, the time he had come by my place looking for Brian after he'd knocked the shit out of him. Remembered our little conversation in the kitchen, about when I was ready, I wouldn't be afraid, and about Leon not pushing me to have sex with him. He had been this way then. Paternal, almost. Warm, friendly, human. It seemed to me that every time I was alone with him, he was another man entirely, and it puzzled me. Who was he holding up the hardassed façade for? Who did he know that he had to protect himself against? No one? Everyone?

I felt strange and got up to go to the bathroom. Fucking perfect. I had my period. I was grateful it hadn't leaked all over, that I wouldn't have to suffer that humiliation on top of the embarrassment of crying in front of him, of being so completely transparent. I put a cork in it and looked in the mirror as I washed my hands, my eyes locked on the eyes in the reflection. I didn't recognize myself. They were my old clothes, that was my old face, but the eyes…I was becoming someone else. Something else. I wasn't sure how I felt about the girl in the mirror, the confusion I saw there. This was a vacation, right? I was supposed to be having fun.

Dom had been right; I felt twenty times better after having something to eat, something of substance in my stomach. We left the restaurant, stepped into the blazing blue and gold of the early afternoon.

"You drivin, Mizz Iz?" he asked, and I grinned.

"Why not."

We circled the giant city looking at property. I had been under the impression that we were looking for a site to build the auto garage they'd been talking about, but instead we were looking at abandoned storefronts, for rent and for sale.

"We're going to have a little restaurant, too," was the only explanation he would give me, and even this was said uneasily. I didn't push the envelope.

It seemed that every place in the city was totally and completely filthy and disgusting, and that was the reason they were for sale. Dominic was unsure of himself, looking over the buildings, walking, checking the walls, and he was gauging my reaction constantly, asking my opinion. He doubted himself. More than Leon, more than Letty, more than any of them, he really wanted to be cultured and respectable, and didn't know where to start. I wanted to tell him there were better entryways to the upper class than through the Italian mob, but it was not my place and probably never would be.

All I could do was offer my advice, highlight the pros and cons of each place, feel out the character of the establishment and let him know what might be done to improve it. He seemed to appreciate it, to hang on every word. Like just because I was rich I was much more suited for the job of choosing a site than he ever would be.

The sun was setting, flame orange over the skyline, and we had just one more we wanted to take a look at. He was driving, the sunset reflected in the lenses of his shades, and he licked his lips and took a deep breath, as if he were steeling himself to say something difficult.

"Look, Izzie." I looked. "I'm really sorry about the way I was to you in the room this morning, telling you to move your ass, and trying to keep you out of this trip. But I think…I think you know why I did it. Don't you?"

"Yes," I said slowly. "And I think I know why you have to be a dick to me in front of Letty, too." He nodded.

"Haven't been perfect in the past, and now every minor offense sets her off…She's friends with you though. She told me she doesn't think you would do anything with her because you two get along so well and you're decent." I winced. "I know. Hurts, doesn't it. To be trusted when you know you don't deserve it." I swallowed hard and turned my face to the window.

"I won't…I don't want to hurt her. But she knows, doesn't she."

"Of course she knows. She's not stupid. She's smarter than I am." He chuckled a little. "She knows you've got something for me." He paused for a moment, scanning the side of me, and I met his gaze, and it was as if he wasn't sure if he should continue. "And she knows I've had my eye on you, too." I gasped a little and held the breath I'd drawn. Part of me wanted to sing and dance, exulted, flattered, triumphant, and part of me was full of a sinking dread. _No, God dammit, Dominic! No! This makes it soooo much harder…_ I wanted to jump out of the Escalade and run. I wanted to jump in his lap and fuck. I wanted to scream and cry, laugh and thank the Lord, give him a knuckle sandwich and a kick to the groin and a blowjob all at once. I had never been so confused in all my life. So I just nodded and kept my untrustworthy mouth shut and hoped he wouldn't say anything more.

No such luck.

"Can I tell you something, Izzie?" I slouched in my seat, arms folded over my chest, and looked up at him. "When I see you with Leon sometimes, I feel so pissed. Like I want you to be mine. I don't just want to fuck you, which is confusing to me. That's all it's ever been with the other girls I've…Well, that's all it's ever been before with everyone except Letty." I could feel the color draining from my face, and he was losing his chutzpah because of it. "I don't just want to fuck you, or I would have done it already. I am incredibly drawn to you, and I have no idea why." And he turned back to the road.

We rolled up to the curb in front of our last try at a place for Dom's little restaurant, and he smiled warmly at it.

"Izzie," he said softly, and I nodded.

"That's the one."

"Let's go take a look through the windows." We got out and looked in, at the hardwood flooring and high ceilings and big, arching windows. It was a beautiful place, with a buffet and a little bakery counter, and even in the waning late-day sun, it was completely illuminated without the use of artificial light. It was large, but not so large it wouldn't be homey and personal, and there were broad, bare walls with great potential for classy interior design.

"Yes, Dom," I said. "Yes."

Leon and Letty were gone when we reached the hotel room, a note on the vanity that read, "Gone to dinner with V. Back 10:00. Want to go out?" Dom chuckled a little as he read it.

"They're insatiable," he muttered, and I grinned. I loved the fact that he was so intelligent, was so pleasantly surprised that his vocabulary was beyond troglodite proficiency. Muscles, soul, and brain…I was so sunk.

"What's the deal with Vince, anyway?" I asked, flopping down across the bed on my back and yawning.

"He's been keeping his distance lately," Dom said, following my suit on his own bed. "He's pissed at me and it runs deep. But we'll sort it, in time." He yawned as well, adding a growl to it and folding his hands on his belly. He closed his eyes and was silent. I closed mine, and I don't even remember falling asleep. I just passed out.

When I woke, it was to Leon climbing into the bed beside me, wrapping one arm around me and pulling me in close to him.

"Hey," he said softly, and I smiled.

"Hey yourself." I responded to his kiss hungrily; he tasted wonderful, like brandy old fashioned. His hands were all over; he was sauced. It was obvious that they had gone straight from dinner to "out" and had forgotten their written invite to myself and Dom. He was getting the same kind of drunken grope that I was, and he flashed me a quick smile before centering his attention on the wicked Puerto Rican bitch goddess who was trying to rape him through his clothes.

Leon caught my smile at Dom and paused a moment, a bit confused, as if he were struggling, through his inebriated haze, to decide whether or not he wanted to make an issue of it. He initially decided against it, going for the hemline of my dress and hitching it up around my waist. Dom's words echoed suddenly in my head. _Sometimes when I see you with Leon, I get so pissed…_

The fun went out of me, then, remembering that, and I did my best to give back as good as I got, but my heart wasn't in it. He started getting a little bit forward, taking my bare breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over my nipples, and my body answered to it, but my mind said stop. He dragged his hands down over my ribs, past my waist, and slipped his fingertips into the waistline of my panties. He started to go further, but I remembered that I had my period and my hands shot down to catch his.

"Don't," I whispered, as softly as possible, and he stopped, right then, good as usual about it.

"Why?" he whispered back.

_Fuck_, I swore inwardly. I didn't want Dom to know I had my period, to realize he'd been driving around with me bleeding like that, and I didn't really want to tell Leon, either. I was young, I was still embarrassed by that kind of thing, and I hesitated, didn't want to tell him.

"Why?" he repeated. "What's wrong."

"Just…"

"What are you not telling me, Izzie?" he asked, voice loud because he was truly intoxicated.

"Shhh," I said shortly, my face on fire, and he sat up, looking down at me. I raised up on my elbows, not able to meet his gaze.

"No, tell me. What's up?" I could tell he was remembering the clandestine little smile he'd caught.

"Leon…" For the eighteenth time in a week I felt like I would cry. I raised moist eyes up to him, completely mortified, knowing I would have to tell him, and now Dom and Letty, although still making out, were listening, I was sure of it. I looked over to see if they were watching, and Leon snapped.

He leapt from the bed we shared like a flying banshee, across the space between beds and onto the sweaty tangle of limbs that was Dom and Letty. They were forced apart and Letty bounced off, landing on her ass, half-naked and fully drunk on the floor beside the bed. She sat, stunned, as I did, as Leon straddled Dom's stomach and grabbed a fistful of his wifebeater, punching him point-blank in the face. He got another hard hit in to Dom's jaw before he was thrown down to the bed like an inflatable date and pounced on, Dom holding him by the throat.

"Leon, STOP. You're drunk as fuck. You don't know what you're doing." Leon plugged a punch to Dom's iron belly. "Stop!" Dom repeated, grasping his gut with one hand and leaving the other to pin Leon down.

"You fucked her," Leon slurred.

"I did NOT fuck her."

"You fucked her."

Dom wound up and backhanded him across the mouth, and Leon took advantage of the situation, shoving Dom back toward the edge of the bed, but Dom caught hold of him, and when he fell, he brought Leon with him. Letty burst out laughing.

"Hey," I said, as they crashed to the floor, scrambling and both hitting and tearing and swearing at each other. "Hey!" I repeated, a bit louder. Dom pulled Leon's head back with a fistful of sandy brown curls and had every intention of smashing his fist directly into Leon's face. I had a sudden flashback: the image of Brian after a drunken Dom had finished with him. "HEY!" Screamed it this time, and Dom froze mid-swing, Leon froze mid-wince, and Letty stopped laughing. They all turned to me. My heart was pounding, I felt like I would be sick.

"Dom, let him go. Letty, it's not funny. And Leon…I've got my fucking period, okay? I don't want your hands in my pants because I'm on the fucking rag. Now do us all a favor. Get your drunk ass over here and go to sleep."


	18. Chapter 19

**Chapter Twenty**

"He hates me," I said, meaning Leon, leaning back into the headrest in the passenger seat of the SUV and putting my feet up on the dash.

"Fuck that, he don't hate you." She studied my face for a moment. "You're not fucking Dom. Are you." It wasn't a question.

"No," I stated, straightforward. "God, no."

"I know. Because I've been with you every day and you'da been limping if you did." She laughed, and I smiled a little, looking out at Dom, who stood smoking and shooting the shit with Leon and Vince. They were all still dressed respectably, since we'd just come from dinner with the Torlones.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh, God." Letty grinned and shook her head. "I was one miserable bitch the next day. Dom's a big boy. He was so gentle, took his time and did everything right, and it STILL hurt like a sonofabitch."

"Were you scared?"

"To fuck Dom?" she asked. I nodded. "Hell no. That was something I wanted to do since I was eleven years old. So when he got out of jail, came to my party…It was my sixteenth birthday." She was smiling broadly, full of mischief. "And he looked at me, probably for the ten millionth time in his life, and for the first time he didn't see an annoying little ghetto rat." She laughed, and I did too. "We didn't get drunk or anything, we just sat and talked and then I went up to get a sweatshirt and he came in with me and…A muthafuckin dream come true, let me tell you." She was quiet, smoking and reminiscing, until the mechanical bleet of her cell phone woke both of us. She picked up.

"Hey." I watched her face light up. "I can't fuckin believe it. You seriously are?" She was silent, letting the other person talk. "Oh, sure. You're right close. Turn left right now and I'll see you." She was quiet again, climbing out of the Escalade and yawning and staring up the street. I did the same, coming to stand next her. A long, plaintive screech of expensive racing tires sounded down the street, and Dom looked up with that same bored deadpan to see a black Dodge Stealth bulleting down the road toward us. With a Blues Brothers-esque finesse, the driver slammed on the breaks just before us, pulled a gifted 180, and stopped the car perfectly alongside the curb in front of the Escalade. The car was jet, inky black, with windows tinted completely black and thin, almost dainty silver flames licking up the hood and along the side panels. The rims were flashy and the license plates said "SMOKEUM".

The driver's side door opened and a pair of long legs encased in black leather flares emerged. Dom flicked his cigarette into the street and took a step toward the car, a shiteating grin on his face. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough with ill-concealed intentions.

"Yessss," he growled, and Letty rolled her giant black eyes. The driver rose to her feet and stood, her shoulders a pale, barely-tanned gold, her hair cut short and a wild, unnatural auburn/burgundy color. She wore a wifebeater that she had gone at with a scissors so it just barely covered her small, bra-less breasts. She was muscley, like Letty, and wore mirror-lensed shades that flashed in the late afternoon sun.

"Jesus Christ, Leticia," she said. "What the hell are you wearing?" She came to Letty, an expression of genuine concern on her face, then looked wryly at Dom. "I see you're still draggin' around the same old ball and chain." Vince didn't wait for an invitation, just stormed up to her and picked her up in a tight bear hug. He shook her and kissed her neck and dropped her, and she went to Leon, wrapped her arms around him, and I could see the intricate tattoo across the small of her back, in Olde English letters, reading "VIRI". Then Dom came to her and she snorted, folding her arms over her chest and staring up at him, letting her gogs slip down the bridge of her nose. "Can I help you?"

"That any way to greet your mentor?" he asked, a filthy smile on his face. He squinted into the sun and looked at Letty. "Hey, Let. How come you didn't tell me you were inviting the rainbow coalition?"

"Aw, fuck you asshole. Last I remember you were putting my sexual orientation to good use, in your favor, and I didn't hear a single complaint." She stalked to Letty and draped one arm over her shoulder, kissing her forehead. "'S'aight, dough. This time we'll just leave you out of it, if you suddenly so straight-laced. Right, Let?" She cracked up, and I couldn't help laughing either, as I figured out what they were talking about. This new chick looked at me, appraising me quickly. "Who's this?"

"This is Izzie," Leon said, and came and roped one arm around my waist. "She's my girl." It was the first he'd touched me all day, and it didn't feel right, felt forced and devoid of emotion.

"Izzie? 'Bout fuckin time you get a girl, Leon. I was just startin' to think I'd have to take you to parades with me. Izzie, I'm Viri. Went to high school with Letty." She stepped forward and offered her hand, not releasing Letty, and I shook it.

"Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, we'll see," she said, smiling. "See what you think in an hour or so." She stretched, arms above her head, and I saw that her abs were impressive, well-defined. I had never met a gay girl before. There were two girls at my prep school who had been rumored to have made out in front of a crowd at a Harvard frat party, but it had been drug-induced, they had boyfriends, and weren't really lesbians, and that was as close as I'd ever gotten. My brain was churning, wondering if it bothered Letty, the way this Viri girl was so possessive of her, so touchy-feely, and wondering exactly how much more they'd done than what they were doing right now. Wondering if the girl had been joking when she'd said she and Letty would go at it alone if Dom was suddenly straight-laced.

"This calls for celebration," Leon said. "Let's do it."

"Now?" Dom asked, looking at his watch. He took Letty by the wrist and tugged her to his side. "It's six p.m."

"Yeah, and I'm beat," Viri yawned. "Been driving for 90 hours."

"You lie," Dom laughed. "You got reservations?"

"I thought she could stay in with the Dawg, since he's anti social and has his own room," Letty said.

Vince grinned at her.

"Not a problem."

Leon released me, having completed the marking of his territory, and went again to stand near Dominic. I was achey all over from cramps, and tired from the emotional fiasco of the night before. I had a sort of sick feeling in the pit of my stomach at the way Leon was acting toward me; distant, awkward, quiet. I didn't want to lose him, and it felt as if he were slowly stepping back away from me, as if I were a wrench in some greater thing that he valued more than our summer fling. He would choose Dom over me, this I knew. In a heartbeat, he would shove me out of his life to save his relationship with Dominic A. Toretto. It frightened me. I felt as if I might have lost him already.

"Let's go lie down," she said, to Letty, smirking. "That way we can pull an all-nighter tonight."

Letty shrugged.

"Sure. Izzie, you too. Girls' night out tonight."

"Take pictures of the skyline," Dom said, nudging Leon. "The city'll never be the same."

Letty and I changed out of dinner clothes into comfy street clothes-wifebeaters and baggy jeans. Viri took the spot usually occupied by Dominic, Letty sleeping like a rock there beside her, all curled up, and I dozed off in the middle of a conversation about daytime talk shows with Viri.

The boys shook us awake at sunset, hungry and ornery and bored, and climbed onto the beds with us, Dom on the bed stretching out contentedly between Letty and Viri, Vince and Leon sitting at the end of the bed I was crashed on, smoking cigarettes.

"It's nine-thirty," Leon said. "I'm starving. And I could use a drink."

"I'm not going anywhere looking like this," Letty moaned, into the pillowcase, and Dom leaned over, almost absentmindedly, and kissed her shoulder. "If we're going out, I need to get dressed."

"Me too," I chimed.

"And me," Viri agreed.

"Fuck, you guys," Dom said. "You guys start getting dressed now and we just might get out of here in time for Christmas."

"Let's get room service," Letty suggested, and Dom snorted.

"No."

"Why not? It'll be fun. Part of stayin' in a hotel is-"

"NO."

"You just gotta say no to her, don't you." Viri shook her head. "You don't even know why you're sayin no, just so you're in command."

"Don't start." Dom's voice was hard and no-nonsense.

"Here," Viri said, lifting the telephone receiver from it's cradle. "I'll order room service. And I'll be god damned if you're gonna tell ME what to do." Letty stuck out her tongue at Dom. "Hello, I'd like to order some room service for number 587." She looked up at Letty. "What're we hungry for, baby?"

"Champagne and strawberries."

"Ooooh, good answer," Viri chuckled. "Okay. We want three bottles of champagne and strawberries fondue. And we want three large cheese pizzas, breadsticks, and a french silk pie." She was quiet a moment as her order was repeated back to her, then nodded. "Yeah. That's it. Bring a bill, I'll pay in cash when you get here." She hung up the telephone and flopped back into the pillow, turning to smirk at Dom, and I couldn't help but smile, despite the fact that I was feeling like shit over Leon's painfully obvious neglect. He and Dom seemed fine. I'd even caught them laughing together about it. And just the thought of the previous night made me sick to my stomach.

Letty sat up, cross-legged, and lit a cigarette, and Dom rolled over and put his head in her lap. He looked stressed and exhausted, rubbing his eyes like a tired toddler, and Letty sensed it, as well, resting one hand on the top of his head and massaging his scalp with her fingertips. She bent and kissed his forehead, and I smiled softly, but had to look away, aching to show Leon the same kind of tenderness, but he was distant and unreachable. They slipped into a conversation then, the five of them, about cars and races, and I opened myself to it, trying to put pieces together, get to know them.

"You remember when Luis and Hector raced that scrawny little whiteboy from Beverly Hills?" Viri asked Dom, and he looked confused for a moment, then broke out grinning.

"Oh, yeah. That puny richkid in his dad's McLaren? Killed the engine getting the car to the starting point." He laughed. "Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"I saw him, last week. Cruisin'. He remembered me, too."

"Ouch," Dom grinned. "What was he driving?"

"A Civic."

Letty cracked up.

"How IS Hector?" Dom asked, and Viri shrugged.

"Don't see much of him. He's got a girl now, you know? That changes things."

"She's not a racer girl?" Vince asked, over his shoulder.

"Hell no, she's not. She's homespun. Sweet. I saw them at Edwin's Rock the Block."

"I was wondering if he'd had that again this year," Dom said. "God damn, those were good parties."

"Who is it?" Letty asked. "Hector's girl."

"Marina something," Viri shrugged. "I don't know."

"Marina Montana? Who lives up above the bodega?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why, you know her?"

"Kind of," Letty said.

"What kind of race scene do they have here?"

"Formula One," Leon said. "But we're not up in that."

"No, probably not." Viri yawned and closed her eyes, folding her hands on her bare belly. It was nearly black outside now, and the lights in the room were on dim, giving off just a soft glow. I wondered what it was that made us all so tired, and decided it was probably the heat. I felt as if I could go to sleep again.

"Let's put some music on," Viri said, breaking the brief silence. She peeled herself out of the bed and stood and stretched. "This room is excellent. Does it have a hot tub?"

"It's got a big bathtub that bubbles," Letty said. "Not really a jacuzzi or anything." Viri nodded, thumbing through the CD wallet on the dresser top. She chose one and put it on. The softer, upbeat thumb of Jagged Edge streamed through the speakers of the portable little boombox, and she came back and, surprisingly, sat next to me.

"So. Izzie. What's your story, girl."

I cleared my throat.

"I'm here with my parents for the summer. I'm just a few houses down from them."

"Yeah? Where you from?"

"New York, New York." I smiled.

"You look a little young."

"She's legal," Vince interjected, and we all laughed, myself included.

"I'm eighteen."

"You bein' nice to Leon?" Viri asked, and I sat up, hanging my legs off the edge of the bed.

"Occasionally."

"He's a sweetheart. You be good to him, you hear?"

"Viri left me for another woman," Leon grumbled, a wry smile on his face, and Viri snorted.

"You were just too much man for me, darlin'."

There was a knock on the door.

"It's open," Dom boomed, and a dark-skinned man in a gleaming white shirt, black bow, cummerbund et al, pushed a cart over the threshold with a large bukcket of ice and three bottles of champagne, plus a little steel contraption that was steaming and a heaping mound of strawberries.

"Excellent," Viri said, standing and tugging on the chain at her hip so her wallet slid out of her back pocket. She pulled out a crisp stack of brand-new bills and paid the boy, told him to keep the change. He smiled and ducked shyly out the way he'd come.

The champagne flutes were plain but pretty, understated elegance with fading frosted bases and one tiny rose etched on each one.

"Livin' large," Dom grinned, inspecting one, and Letty laughed and slugged him. Viri popped the cork and held the bottle to her mouth, the foam she couldn't swallow running over her chin and down her front. Vince's eyes were raptly attentive, locked on her as she poured and distributed.

"We should have a toast," she said.

"To what?" Dom asked.

"Izzie," Viri said. "You're the newbie. You do the toast."

"Oh Lord. Me?"

Letty cracked up. She put on a comically accurate Jersey accent:

"Come on, Mizz Izz. You know you smawt. Go fo' it."

"Gah." I stood up. "Okay. Short and sweet." I raised my glass. "TO the company of friends, to health and happiness, to longevity and prosperity, to beers and beaches and badass cars. Oh, and last but not least, to summer vacation in Mexico."

"Amen." Dom laughed, and we all gravitated in toward one another and clinked our glasses.

"Hear, hear!" Viri said, and we all drank.

We refilled and rearranged, Leon stretched out across our bed with Vince at the foot of it, and I sat between Letty and Viri, all three of us lined up cross-legged against the wall with Dom sitting against the headboard in front of us. He kept rubbing at his temples and neck, as if he had a migraine. He stopped, though, as he got a little bit drunk. We passed around the bottle until it was gone, then popped the cork on a second one. It was fairly sweet, the champagne, a pale golden color with sparkling cascades of tiny bubbles ever rising from the bottom of the glass to the surface. After my fourth glass, I began to feel quite warm, my skin humming, lips tingling and almost numb. So I had another glass.

Vince and Leon had abandoned the champagne and chocolate strawberries for Absolut screwdrivers and pizza, which had arrived without my noticing, and they were watching a smutty pay-per-view in complete silence. Dom was listening to the rambling conversation between Letty and Viri, but their words came to me as if I were underwater, and I grasped very little of what they were saying. Dom set his glass down on the bedside table and yawned, lying horizontally across the bed on his belly with his face in Letty's lap again. She sat with her back to the wall, and Dom was longer than the bed was wide, so his feet stuck off the side. She looked down at him, brow furrowed a little, and tugged lightly on one of his little round ears.

"You sick?"

"My head is fuckin' pounding," he muttered, into her stomach.

"Damn, big dude," Viri snapped her fingers. "How we supposed to get butt-nekkid and freaky if you're all sick an' shit?"

"Go right ahead," he said. "Lesbian lovin' is a spectator sport." Everyone burst out laughing, Leon and Vince the loudest.

"Yeah, girls," Vince piped in with a saucy smile. "Get busy."

The cocky self-assurance on Viri's face softened, and Letty met her questioning gaze almost shyly. Dom seemed to sense the sudden charge in the atmosphere, because he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, watching upside-down as Viri made her way to the other side of the bed to put her glass on the floor. She walked on her knees back to where Letty and I sat. She put one leg over Dom and eased her weight down so she was straddling him, this mischievous grin on her face again as she wrapped one hand around the back of Letty's neck and pulled her gently forward, pressing her lips to Letty's mouth.

"Hell yeah," Vince said, clapping Leon on the back. I couldn't take my eyes off of them, staring with a disbelieving chaos of mixed emotion. Letty's hands were on Dom's shoulders, but Viri's hands were only on Letty, on her waist now, the black satin curtain of Letty's hair brushing against the alabaster of Viri's skin and making it glow in comparison. I managed to tear my gaze away and look at Dom, who was keeping his hands to himself, gripping the comforter lightly, but was watching closely.

Leon and Vince rose in unison, wiping greasy hands on their pants and sitting slowly, as not to disturb Letty and Viri, one on each side of Dom, Leon next to me but not touching me. The music from the CD on repeat was simultaneously soft and hard as Viri moved her hands to cover Letty's breasts. I was shaking, my heart throbbing, and I drained my sixth glass of champagne.

Leon nudged me and smiled this slow, tired smile.

"Get in there, Izzie," he said, his voice kind of throaty. I raised my eyebrows and couldn't help but return his smile, nervously, and then I jumped as I felt someone's hand take mine.

It was Viri. She pulled me, gently, in toward her, and drew back from Letty to meet my eyes. Hers were large and darker gray than mine and very expressive, and my hand trembled out of control in hers. I could feel Letty's black gaze on my face, and I licked my bottom lip without even realizing it.

"Ever kiss a girl on the mouth before, baby?"

I was buzzing, my heart thrumming and pumping in my chest like a steam engine. I shook my head.

"You want to?"

Her mouth was soft, her hand resting on my forearm, and she was easy with me, chaste, almost. She kept her tongue to herself, was very non-threatening, and I was shaking like a leaf, but wasn't really afraid. I was frozen, taking what she gave me but too new and too nervous to respond much. I felt a little stiff and uncomfortable, unsure of what I wanted from her kiss, what to expect. I felt my body begin to warm to it and went frigid, trying to keep myself from feeling…awakened…by her. Eyes closed, heart hammering away…What felt like hours was, in reality, thirty seconds at best. Then calmly, diplomatic, almost, she grabbed a fistful of the front of Letty's tank and one of mine and broke the kiss she'd held with me.

"Here," she said softly, in her husky-for-a-whitegirl voice. "Kiss Letty."

Both Letty and I hesitated a moment, both holding the same thought, I think. Would this be weird if and when we were sober again? But the concern was fleeting, for both of us, and we were far from sober in that moment as our mouths came together. Her lashes tickled my face and our kiss was much deeper. I felt much more relaxed with her, able to respond, and she fed off my response. My nipples were hard and so were hers, and I realized it was probably very obvious when Dom slipped his hands over his head, beneath the hem of her shirt, and up the plane of her stomach. Viri climbed off of Dominic and watched Letty and I kiss, and I opened my mouth and she dipped her tongue in and it touched mine. Vince whistled through his teeth.

We pulled away at the same time, and she pushed Dom's hands down out of her clothes, a flush of inebriated arousal on her cheeks. She grinned at me a little and shrugged, then urged Dominic into a sitting position. Viri watched her catlike movement as she unfolded her legs and stood on the bed, hopping off.

"Aww, come on," Vince whined. "Encore."

"Done for now, Let?" Viri asked, and Letty shrugged again, tottering tipsily to the box of pizza, cocking her head, eye on the porn, and I had the sudden, irrepressible urge to pee.

I sat on the toilet seat long after I was finished, head in my hands, buzzing and feeling very strange. Very numb and practical all of a sudden. And this voice in my head could not be silenced.

_My God, Isabel Adams,_ it repeated. _What the FUCK was that?_


	19. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty-one**

The door cracked open and Viri came in. I pulled my pants up and zipped them and she grinned at me over her shoulder as she stood before the mirror, playing with her eye makeup.

"Feel fucked up?" she asked, and I looked at her a moment in the mirror before nodding. "Don't. It's all right. It's not gonna change anything. Letty is straight, you're straight. It's just fucking around, you know? When you're sober, it won't be weird. It'll be just like," she shrugged, "I was drunk. I got crazy. End of story. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't change anything. You're still you, she's still her. She's with Dom and you're with Leon…it's just for fun. If you like it, do it more. If you don't, don't. For the two of you, it's just entertainment. It's not a lifestyle. It's not your reality. So don't get all fucked up about it." I nodded again, slowly. I felt a little shaky and pretty damn drunk. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. We're gonna go out, Letty and I. Are you coming?"

"Are the boys going?"

"Vince will, I'm sure," Viri said, rolling her eyes, and I smiled. "I don't know about Leon. The big dog seems a little under the weather, so I don't know about him either. We can find out though, huh?" I nodded slowly and followed her out into our room where everything had more or less returned to normal. Letty still stood in front of the TV, and they were laughing at something cheesy on the PPV porno they'd ordered. Only Dom was on the bed, and he had his eyes closed, lying on his stomach. His brow was furrowed and he really looked as if he felt like shit. I flopped down across the bed I'd shared with Leon and I closed my eyes, just to rest them. I was more drunk than I had supposed, and I passed out almost immediately thereafter.

As awareness flooded back through my body, I became aware of a loud thumping in the bathroom to my left.

I looked over into the next bed. Dom was lying there on his belly awake, and when I met his gaze, he grinned.

"V-Dawg's havin' some Viri for dessert," he said, voice still raspy from sleep. I yawned.

"Leon and Let?"

"In Vince's room," he yawned back. "So they don't wake up." His statement was punctuated by a large crash that rattled the door in the frame.

"Jesus," I shook my head. "That sounded painful."

He chuckled.

"No one ever accused Vince of bein' smooth."

I propped up on my elbows.

"You all good with Leon?" I asked.

"'Course. Not the first time we've fought over a girl. It's the first time _he's_ jumped _me_, though. And definitely the first time I've been unjustly accused."

"He's pissed at me."

"No. He's not pissed. When he's pissed, he blows up, just like he did last…yesterday, or whatever. He's not happy, but he's not pissed."

"What's he not happy about?"

"God knows," Dom shrugged, closing his eyes again. "Talk to him." Then he cracked a smile. "He sure as hell ain't unhappy about Letty's tongue in your mouth."

"Oh, Christ." I clapped my hand over my lips, having completely forgotten about that entire scenario.

"Calm down. Lots of girls do it, one time or another. It's called experimentation. What being young is about."

I relaxed a little, laid back down.

"Letty…She's straight, right?"

"Viri's the only girl she's ever done anything with. Well, and you, now." He laughed. "And it's only happened twice before this. And only when she's bombed."

I nodded.

"So it's Viri, then."

"It's Viri. Viri is a lesbian. She prefers girls, and fucks guys occasionally. For fun or, in this case, out of pity." A belly laugh jumped out of me without warning. "And Letty…there's a difference. Letty and Viri have known each other since junior high. Viri's a year older. Viri was 'straight' when she and Letty met, then bi at the end of high school, then went out with Leon, and left him for a big black girl called Rachelle."

"That's terrible!" I exclaimed, but could not keep the amused smirk off my face.

"He wasn't broken up about it. She was more a friend that he was fucking than a lover or a girlfriend. I always kind of thought he might have been her cover. But with Letty…she was younger than Viri, but just as tomboy and hardass. And Letty..I've talked it through with her. I sat her down for a talk as soon as I found out Viri was swingin' that way. Told her if she was bi or gay or whatever, or if she'd done stuff with Viri, I was fine with it. I would still love her, still be with her, but that I needed to know. I told her I'd rather have her be honest with me and leave me over it than stay with me, lying to me and to herself, making herself touch me and fuck me and everything and not being happy. I couldn't take that."

"What'd she say?" I asked. I loved the Dom he was when we were alone.

"She said it was cool of me to be so tolerant but that she wasn't gay. She was definitely straight. It wasn't until about a year ago that we were sitting around drinking and Letty and Viri started kissing. It was strange."

"Do you wish they wouldn't?"

"You know, I can take it or leave it. It's not a major turn-on for me."

"No? Not like it is for Vince, huh?"

"Oh, God, no." He laughed out the words. "Vince and Leon and Jesse were all there the first time it happened. I thought Vince and Jesse were gonna cream their jeans. Like kids in a candy store. Like fuckin' puppies that need to go out. Wigglin' around and grinning like ghouls."

"And Leon?"

"Leon was like he was tonight. Just watching. Same as me. Being quiet. Taking notes." He laughed, and I laughed with him. "But the second time, it was just me and the two of them, and that was wild and insane. I got more than I bargained for, there."

I nodded, and he rolled slowly onto his back, folding his hands on his belly. "Still a virgin, Izzie?"

I sighed and smiled.

"Yeah."

"On purpose?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "I think I'm ready. Like, day to day, I feel ready. But when it's just me and just him, I'm still scared."

Dominic shrugged.

"That happens. It's a big step. But it'll come to you."

Leon staggered in then, smiling, Letty behind him. She was wearing her white bikini, barefoot and soaking wet, and Leon's curls were glistening, so I knew HE'D taken a dip, as well. He came to the bed and flopped down on his stomach next to me, buried his face in my belly, and I put my hands in his hair. It was cool and damp, and he smelled like chlorine and beer. I wanted to kiss him, wanted him to come up and put his mouth on mine and kiss me, but he didn't. He just laid there a while, and then he started to snore.

Viri came in with Vince just as I was dozing off, and Vince collapsed in a heap on Dom and Letty's bed. I think he was asleep before his head hit their pillow. Viri coaxed Dom and Letty out of their semi-slumber with strategically-placed hands and carefully chosen whisperwords. They followed her, single file, out the door, and it clicked shut softly behind them.

Viri left Mexico City for the United States on the same day we headed back to Puerto Vallarta. Once again, Leon and I rode with Dominic, in the back of the Escalade, but we didn't so much as touch each other. The silence was painfully obvious, and Dom met my gaze in the rearview, gave me this look like, "lighten up, he'll get over it."

But he didn't. I had this horrible sinking feeling in my gut, this writing knot of nerves mixed with a lurching nausea. Dread. Intuition. Something was not right. Something big.

Mia had the house spotless and dinner on when we walked through the door, and she came to Dom immediately and wrapped her arms around his waist. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and pressed her to his shoulder. She buried her face there, embarrassed of her tears. He murmured inaudibly to her, then took her face in both hands and held it six inches from his own.

"I'm all right," he said somberly. "I'm all right, okay?" She nodded, slowly. "Don't _worry_, Mia. I got it. I'll take care of us." I had never before seen him so soft.

We took food and beer onto the beach and the sun was setting. I think we were all exhausted, and Dom was sick. Whatever he had, Letty had some mild case of it, too, because she couldn't keep any food down. I sat cross-legged next to Leon in the sand, the giant silver hoops in my ears swinging lazily on dusk's temperate breeze. He picked at his food but seemed to have no interest in eating it, the same infuriating silence, the same sinking, irrational forewarning of sorrow to come, and then he looked at me and I met his gaze and I knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

"Izzie, we need to talk. Alone."

I was shaking and on the verge of tears as I walked behind him into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and I couldn't meet his gaze.

"I need it to be over, Iz,' Leon said, his gravelly voice thick and strangled.

"No," I whispered, then louder. "No, Leon, don't do this."

"I have to. It's fucking me up. I don't like what it's doing to me, Izzie. I attacked my best friend a couple days ago, for something he didn't do."

"Leon, it's okay. He's not pissed, and I-"

"I'm not in his league. I can't compete with him."

"Leon, don't," I pleaded. "No one's asking you to-"

"I can't. He gets the girl, every time, and usually I don't give a shit. But I give a shit now. I love you, Izzie. And I'm scared shitless. I have never been like this with a girl-never tried so hard, put so much into it. If I lose this to him, it'll kill me. And I have to be able to live with Dom. I know you don't know details, but I think you know that I HAVE to be able to live here with Dom. When it comes to girls, he can't-he can't control himself. It's like the 'right or wrong' switch in his head is busted. But I can't lose you to him and have shit be-"

"Leon, don't! You're not going to lose me to him! Jesus Christ. I haven't so much as touched him!"

"Izzie, I see the way you look at him. And on your own, I know you'd never fuck me over. But this is Dom. And if I don't lose you to him, Isabel, I lose you in two months when you go back to med school! And I know you love me and I know this hurts you and none of it is your fault. Please believe me that none of it is your fault. And I'm sorry. But I have to do this. I have to, or I'll ruin the rest of my life for myself."

"You're not making sense." I felt as if I'd received a bare-knuckled beating, each and every word an open, aching wound. The moment of stunned, stabbed silence passed and all the pain rushed to the surface and suddenly I was shaking out of control and could not stop, and I began to cry.

"I'm not taking off, kicking you out, abandoning you." He was so calm, and his lack of emotion now, his businesslike rationality, was utterly crippling. "I want us to still talk, still be friends."

"Friends?" I choked on the word, and it made my gorge rise. After all we'd done, all he'd been to me, the concept of interacting with him on a platonic level was excruciating. Preposterous. I wept bitterly.

"Come on, Izzie. I still want you to come around. And you're friends with Letty, and…"

"It's not the same," I broke in, shaking my head, crying. My nose was running and my face was soaked with tears. I was sure I looked and sounded like an immature little jackass, but I didn't care. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been hurt so badly.

"Come on," he said again. He put his hand on the side of my face and I yanked away from him.

"I would never do anything to hurt you, Leon."

"I know," he said.

"Then what the fuck?"

"It's about self preservation, Izzie," he stated flatly. I turned from him, could not keep contact with those beautiful green eyes. Could not look on him knowing I'd probably never look on him as mine again. I couldn't see those eyes as they were now: dull, empty, remorseless. And I couldn't hear his voice as he tried to comfort me, tried to show me the logic in the gaping gash he'd just torn across my heart.

I ran. And I didn't stop until my own bedroom door, on the third floor of my parents' villa home, was shut securely behind me. I slumped against it, slid to the floor, and sobbed.


	20. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-one**

The door cracked open and Viri came in. I pulled my pants up and zipped them and she grinned at me over her shoulder as she stood before the mirror, playing with her eye makeup.

"Feel fucked up?" she asked, and I looked at her a moment in the mirror before nodding. "Don't. It's all right. It's not gonna change anything. Letty is straight, you're straight. It's just fucking around, you know? When you're sober, it won't be weird. It'll be just like," she shrugged, "I was drunk. I got crazy. End of story. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't change anything. You're still you, she's still her. She's with Dom and you're with Leon…it's just for fun. If you like it, do it more. If you don't, don't. For the two of you, it's just entertainment. It's not a lifestyle. It's not your reality. So don't get all fucked up about it." I nodded again, slowly. I felt a little shaky and pretty damn drunk. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. We're gonna go out, Letty and I. Are you coming?"

"Are the boys going?"

"Vince will, I'm sure," Viri said, rolling her eyes, and I smiled. "I don't know about Leon. The big dog seems a little under the weather, so I don't know about him either. We can find out though, huh?" I nodded slowly and followed her out into our room where everything had more or less returned to normal. Letty still stood in front of the TV, and they were laughing at something cheesy on the PPV porno they'd ordered. Only Dom was on the bed, and he had his eyes closed, lying on his stomach. His brow was furrowed and he really looked as if he felt like shit. I flopped down across the bed I'd shared with Leon and I closed my eyes, just to rest them. I was more drunk than I had supposed, and I passed out almost immediately thereafter.

As awareness flooded back through my body, I became aware of a loud thumping in the bathroom to my left.

I looked over into the next bed. Dom was lying there on his belly awake, and when I met his gaze, he grinned.

"V-Dawg's havin' some Viri for dessert," he said, voice still raspy from sleep. I yawned.

"Leon and Let?"

"In Vince's room," he yawned back. "So they don't wake up." His statement was punctuated by a large crash that rattled the door in the frame.

"Jesus," I shook my head. "That sounded painful."

He chuckled.

"No one ever accused Vince of bein' smooth."

I propped up on my elbows.

"You all good with Leon?" I asked.

"'Course. Not the first time we've fought over a girl. It's the first time _he's_ jumped _me_, though. And definitely the first time I've been unjustly accused."

"He's pissed at me."

"No. He's not pissed. When he's pissed, he blows up, just like he did last…yesterday, or whatever. He's not happy, but he's not pissed."

"What's he not happy about?"

"God knows," Dom shrugged, closing his eyes again. "Talk to him." Then he cracked a smile. "He sure as hell ain't unhappy about Letty's tongue in your mouth."

"Oh, Christ." I clapped my hand over my lips, having completely forgotten about that entire scenario.

"Calm down. Lots of girls do it, one time or another. It's called experimentation. What being young is about."

I relaxed a little, laid back down.

"Letty…She's straight, right?"

"Viri's the only girl she's ever done anything with. Well, and you, now." He laughed. "And it's only happened twice before this. And only when she's bombed."

I nodded.

"So it's Viri, then."

"It's Viri. Viri is a lesbian. She prefers girls, and fucks guys occasionally. For fun or, in this case, out of pity." A belly laugh jumped out of me without warning. "And Letty…there's a difference. Letty and Viri have known each other since junior high. Viri's a year older. Viri was 'straight' when she and Letty met, then bi at the end of high school, then went out with Leon, and left him for a big black girl called Rachelle."

"That's terrible!" I exclaimed, but could not keep the amused smirk off my face.

"He wasn't broken up about it. She was more a friend that he was fucking than a lover or a girlfriend. I always kind of thought he might have been her cover. But with Letty…she was younger than Viri, but just as tomboy and hardass. And Letty..I've talked it through with her. I sat her down for a talk as soon as I found out Viri was swingin' that way. Told her if she was bi or gay or whatever, or if she'd done stuff with Viri, I was fine with it. I would still love her, still be with her, but that I needed to know. I told her I'd rather have her be honest with me and leave me over it than stay with me, lying to me and to herself, making herself touch me and fuck me and everything and not being happy. I couldn't take that."

"What'd she say?" I asked. I loved the Dom he was when we were alone.

"She said it was cool of me to be so tolerant but that she wasn't gay. She was definitely straight. It wasn't until about a year ago that we were sitting around drinking and Letty and Viri started kissing. It was strange."

"Do you wish they wouldn't?"

"You know, I can take it or leave it. It's not a major turn-on for me."

"No? Not like it is for Vince, huh?"

"Oh, God, no." He laughed out the words. "Vince and Leon and Jesse were all there the first time it happened. I thought Vince and Jesse were gonna cream their jeans. Like kids in a candy store. Like fuckin' puppies that need to go out. Wigglin' around and grinning like ghouls."

"And Leon?"

"Leon was like he was tonight. Just watching. Same as me. Being quiet. Taking notes." He laughed, and I laughed with him. "But the second time, it was just me and the two of them, and that was wild and insane. I got more than I bargained for, there."

I nodded, and he rolled slowly onto his back, folding his hands on his belly. "Still a virgin, Izzie?"

I sighed and smiled.

"Yeah."

"On purpose?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "I think I'm ready. Like, day to day, I feel ready. But when it's just me and just him, I'm still scared."

Dominic shrugged.

"That happens. It's a big step. But it'll come to you."

Leon staggered in then, smiling, Letty behind him. She was wearing her white bikini, barefoot and soaking wet, and Leon's curls were glistening, so I knew HE'D taken a dip, as well. He came to the bed and flopped down on his stomach next to me, buried his face in my belly, and I put my hands in his hair. It was cool and damp, and he smelled like chlorine and beer. I wanted to kiss him, wanted him to come up and put his mouth on mine and kiss me, but he didn't. He just laid there a while, and then he started to snore.

Viri came in with Vince just as I was dozing off, and Vince collapsed in a heap on Dom and Letty's bed. I think he was asleep before his head hit their pillow. Viri coaxed Dom and Letty out of their semi-slumber with strategically-placed hands and carefully chosen whisperwords. They followed her, single file, out the door, and it clicked shut softly behind them.

Viri left Mexico City for the United States on the same day we headed back to Puerto Vallarta. Once again, Leon and I rode with Dominic, in the back of the Escalade, but we didn't so much as touch each other. The silence was painfully obvious, and Dom met my gaze in the rearview, gave me this look like, "lighten up, he'll get over it."

But he didn't. I had this horrible sinking feeling in my gut, this writing knot of nerves mixed with a lurching nausea. Dread. Intuition. Something was not right. Something big.

Mia had the house spotless and dinner on when we walked through the door, and she came to Dom immediately and wrapped her arms around his waist. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and pressed her to his shoulder. She buried her face there, embarrassed of her tears. He murmured inaudibly to her, then took her face in both hands and held it six inches from his own.

"I'm all right," he said somberly. "I'm all right, okay?" She nodded, slowly. "Don't _worry_, Mia. I got it. I'll take care of us." I had never before seen him so soft.

We took food and beer onto the beach and the sun was setting. I think we were all exhausted, and Dom was sick. Whatever he had, Letty had some mild case of it, too, because she couldn't keep any food down. I sat cross-legged next to Leon in the sand, the giant silver hoops in my ears swinging lazily on dusk's temperate breeze. He picked at his food but seemed to have no interest in eating it, the same infuriating silence, the same sinking, irrational forewarning of sorrow to come, and then he looked at me and I met his gaze and I knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

"Izzie, we need to talk. Alone."

I was shaking and on the verge of tears as I walked behind him into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and I couldn't meet his gaze.

"I need it to be over, Iz,' Leon said, his gravelly voice thick and strangled.

"No," I whispered, then louder. "No, Leon, don't do this."

"I have to. It's fucking me up. I don't like what it's doing to me, Izzie. I attacked my best friend a couple days ago, for something he didn't do."

"Leon, it's okay. He's not pissed, and I-"

"I'm not in his league. I can't compete with him."

"Leon, don't," I pleaded. "No one's asking you to-"

"I can't. He gets the girl, every time, and usually I don't give a shit. But I give a shit now. I love you, Izzie. And I'm scared shitless. I have never been like this with a girl-never tried so hard, put so much into it. If I lose this to him, it'll kill me. And I have to be able to live with Dom. I know you don't know details, but I think you know that I HAVE to be able to live here with Dom. When it comes to girls, he can't-he can't control himself. It's like the 'right or wrong' switch in his head is busted. But I can't lose you to him and have shit be-"

"Leon, don't! You're not going to lose me to him! Jesus Christ. I haven't so much as touched him!"

"Izzie, I see the way you look at him. And on your own, I know you'd never fuck me over. But this is Dom. And if I don't lose you to him, Isabel, I lose you in two months when you go back to med school! And I know you love me and I know this hurts you and none of it is your fault. Please believe me that none of it is your fault. And I'm sorry. But I have to do this. I have to, or I'll ruin the rest of my life for myself."

"You're not making sense." I felt as if I'd received a bare-knuckled beating, each and every word an open, aching wound. The moment of stunned, stabbed silence passed and all the pain rushed to the surface and suddenly I was shaking out of control and could not stop, and I began to cry.

"I'm not taking off, kicking you out, abandoning you." He was so calm, and his lack of emotion now, his businesslike rationality, was utterly crippling. "I want us to still talk, still be friends."

"Friends?" I choked on the word, and it made my gorge rise. After all we'd done, all he'd been to me, the concept of interacting with him on a platonic level was excruciating. Preposterous. I wept bitterly.

"Come on, Izzie. I still want you to come around. And you're friends with Letty, and…"

"It's not the same," I broke in, shaking my head, crying. My nose was running and my face was soaked with tears. I was sure I looked and sounded like an immature little jackass, but I didn't care. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been hurt so badly.

"Come on," he said again. He put his hand on the side of my face and I yanked away from him.

"I would never do anything to hurt you, Leon."

"I know," he said.

"Then what the fuck?"

"It's about self preservation, Izzie," he stated flatly. I turned from him, could not keep contact with those beautiful green eyes. Could not look on him knowing I'd probably never look on him as mine again. I couldn't see those eyes as they were now: dull, empty, remorseless. And I couldn't hear his voice as he tried to comfort me, tried to show me the logic in the gaping gash he'd just torn across my heart.

I ran. And I didn't stop until my own bedroom door, on the third floor of my parents' villa home, was shut securely behind me. I slumped against it, slid to the floor, and sobbed.


	21. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

For three days, I stayed there, unsure of what else I could possibly do. Leon was done with me, and Letty...I was positive that Letty knew the reason Leon had left me. Knew the reason he was done with me and had had to break off the thing that made him most happy because he was afraid I would break it off first. I hated myself for thinking of Dominic, even as I laid there so devastated by what had happened with Leon, I thought about him. It was completely baffling to me that I could so wholeheartedly love two men, and now neither of them were accessible, and I felt very alone.

On the third day, my mother knocked on the door.

"Miss Isabel, what are you doing in there? I haven't seen your face in days."

I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow and groaned, but for some reason, some strange, extraterrestrial reason, I _wanted_ to see my mother. I didn't want to tell her the whole story, or for her to get involved, but I wanted to see her, wanted her to see me, and try to make everything better, as she had when I was a child.

"The door's unlocked," I murmured. She stepped in and sighed, staring at me with her head cocked to one side.

"Leon?" she asked, and I nodded, my eyes filling with tears.

"I want to go home, Mom," I said. "I want to go home."

"No, Izzie. Our vacation isn't even half over. Now what's the matter. It can be fixed, no matter what it is. You're not pregnant, are you?"

"God, mom."

"Okay, you're not pregnant. There'll be others, Izzie," she said. "Wasn't practical, this one. Gorgeous, and well mannered, but not practical. I was speaking to Jacqueline Gauthier Jackson would like to come here, and visit."

"Mother!"

"What? You said the two of you parted amicably!"

"And haven't spoken since! Jesus!"

She had a point. As much as it slayed me to admit it, my mother had a point. So I washed my face and shaved my legs and changed my clothes and called him. He sounded relieved to hear my voice. So relieved that I thought I heard the choking stricture of tears in his throat. He asked if he could see me, and I told him yes.

He arrived the very next day, an obscene price paid by a man of obscene wealth-my father, Jackson Gauthier's biggest fan. I was truly dreading having my parents drive me to pick him up, but the only alternative was to call a hired car and driver, and the resort's hired driver was Leon.

So I rode with them, staring at the back of their heads, wondering what Jackson could possibly want with me, and with Mexico in general.

He was still as gorgeous as ever, but looked older, somehow. Older, solemn as before, smile seeming stressed, forced, as he sat beside me, 5'8" tall and 186 pounds of solid rock muscle. Mr. Football, the running back, great white hope of the academy.

When we reached the house at the villa, my parents-and their infuriatingly idle small talk-mysteriously disappeared. I wore a harmless blue cotton sundress and sandals and my Old Izzie makeup-tame mauve lip color and mascara and nothing else. I kind of regretted it. I still stung from Leon's rejection, and the way Jackson stood, slumped, with his hands in his pockets, defeated and wordless, angered me.

I wanted to scream at him: _You fucked up your life! What do you want ME to do about it? It's nobody's god damn fault but your own._

I wanted to be in the slutty, racy clothes that had made Leon absolutely burn for me, to flaunt what I had become in Jackson's beautiful, morally astute face.

But instead, I was frumpy. I was boring. I was the girl he'd forgotten about, due to inebriation and Ashley Hampton's black string bikini. And I had learned more about men in the past four weeks than in the previous three years I'd spent with Jackson. I knew without a doubt that he regretted it...with every fiber of his being. I knew that he wanted, more than anything, to be in my arms.

"Want to see my bedroom?" I asked, and he hesitated before nodding slowly.

"Sure." His voice was quiet, a bit gruff, and I gestured for him to follow.

I didn't look at him as I led him up the stairs and shut my bedroom door behind the two of us, but his eyes were on me. Locked on me, burning holes in the back of me. Black combat boots with lug soles lay at the foot of the bed, and a black leather mini-skirt, and I saw his eyes catch on them, but, disappointingly, he didn't ask. I leaned back against the door and met his gaze, folding my arms over my chest.

"You look thin, Isabel," he said, tentatively, as if he didn't really know me well enough to say that. "Your hair looks light. And you chopped it."

I shrugged.

"I may have lost some weight, I don't know. It's lighter from the sun. And yes. I chopped it." He did another once-over of the room. "Why did you come here, Jackson?" The question was brutal, but I couldn't phrase it any other way. Had to pose a direct question if I anticipated a direct answer.

"I miss you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Even more than you missed me when you were in the Keys?" I asked tonelessly.

He swallowed hard and looked away, and was silent a long while, but I made no apology and offered him no way out. Finally he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For?"

"For everything that's happened. I want to be with you again."

"What about Ashley?" I sat on the bed, legs bent, elbows resting on my knees. He was trying not to stare up my skirt. It was hilarious.

"Ashley is going to have the baby, and we've decided to give it up for adoption, but she doesn't want to be with me. She says I'm boring."

"You are," I said. "Very."

He looked absolutely wounded. "Thanks."

"Not a problem."

The phone on the little desk rang, and I crossed the room and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Izzie, it's Let. You gotta come help me."

"What? What are you talking about?" Something was off...something in her voice was not right.

"It's Dom. Something's wrong with him. Please, please help me."

I had never heard Letty sound like that before. Panic rode heavy on her tone, and her voice was pinched and pleading.

"What's wrong with him? What do you mean?"

"I don't know, it's like he's gonna fuckin' die. Come help me. You know doctor shit, right?"

So I bade Jackson follow me and ran as fast as I was able, barefoot, down the stretch of villa homes. Letty met me at the door, and she was worried, as pale as was humanly possible for a Puerto Rican to be.

"He's in his bed," she said, glancing only briefly at Jackson. "He won't go to the hospital, but he's gonna fuckin' die. We have to get him to go. You gotta help me."

"Calm down, Letty. I'll help you. Calm down."

I followed her up the stairs, and Jackson trailed at my heels, and when I saw Dominic, my heart dropped like a brick. He wore navy cotton lounge pants and nothing else, doubled over, lying on his side, clutching his stomach. He was drenched in sweat and he was writhing like a man possessed. I went to him, shaking inwardly, wanting to take him in my arms and rock him, but instead I sat on the end of the bed.

"Letty, get me some water and a wash cloth. He's got an insane fever. Jackson, I want you to run back to the house. On the refrigerator is my father's cell phone number. Get a hold of him, tell him to meet you there. When he gets there, sober him up the best you can, tell him I've got a guy here with a high fever and severe abdominal pain. And bring him here. I want him here A.S.A.P. You get me?"

Jackson nodded, as if grateful for the escape, and ran out. Letty did the same, distracted, and I laid a hand on Dom's forehead.

"Dominic, can you hear me?"

"It's my guts that are shitty, Izzie, not my ears."

"Roll over onto your back," I said, "And let me look at you."

"No, I don't need..." He moaned. "This shit."

"You _need_ to be in a hospital. That is what you need. Would you like me to call an ambulance for you?"

"No!"

"Then roll OVER."

A miraculous thing happened. Dominic obeyed me. He rolled over and eased his body flat, and he looked like shit. Every lingering thread of common sense left in my person screamed at me to call the ambulance, obedience or not.

"Where does it hurt, Dom?"

"In my guts."

"_Where_ in your guts? Show me."

"All over," he said. "I think it's my lungs or something, it hurts in my back."

"Where in your back?"

His face crumpled and he folded over himself again on his side. It was like he couldn't get a breath because the pain was relentless, stabbing, sharp and constant. I ran my hands through my hair, heart pounding, panicking as I flipped through a veritable mental rolodex of diseases and dysfunctions that might be triggering such violent suffering in him.

"Did you eat anything different, Dom? Any meat that might have sat out, or...?"

"No. No, it's not like that."

"An ulcer, maybe? Have you had an ulcer before?"

"It's not my stomach!" he snarled, but he sounded weak and tired. The boom was gone from his voice, the fire absent from his temper, and I realized that it had been an exclamation of desperation, not anger.

"Dom, you have to try to tell me what's wrong. Take deep breaths for a minute, in and out really slow. You're gonna be okay, but I can't help you unless I know what's going on. He was quiet, eyes closed, breathing heavy and fast through his nose, and I wanted to cry. I couldn't think. He squirmed and moaned, like he was a woman in labor.

"Turn back over, Dom. Let me check you out."

He managed to roll over, stretch out, and lie still. His skin was fiery to the touch as I put my hands on him. I wanted to check his appendix, but when I flattened my fingers against his side and pressed down, probing, he took my wrists and threw my hands away as if I had burned him.

"Don't do that," he growled.

"Here." Letty handed me a lemonade pitcher filled with water and a washcloth, but I felt strange and handed them back to her, not about to give him a sponge bath with her in the room.

"Wipe him down, all over. I think he's got appendicitis."

Letty shook her head and tapped at a barely-visible silver scar.

"Dom doesn't have an appendix."

"Shit." What else would have hurt if I pressed there? His kidneys?

Of course. His kidneys. He'd told me his back was hurting.

"Where in your back do you hurt, Dom." My tone was soft and gentle. I wanted so badly to make him feel better. He put one hand just at the start of his ribs on his back. Yeah. Kidney _something_. But what? Kidney infection? Kidney stones? Both? For the first time in a very long while, I could not wait to see my father.

When he arrived, he was half-drunk and not a happy man. But he had his game face on, and became completely professional the minute he saw Dominic.

"Okay, pal. I need you on your back and stretched out flat."

Dom was in agony that seemed to increase exponentially with each passing second, but he obeyed my father. Letty was watching, absolutely void of any color, sitting cross legged on the bed against the wall, and I watched, as well. I watched my father's hands move over Dominic's body, the deft, easy exploration, knowing every curve and contour, its scientific name, its purpose, and watched the pained stillness in Dom as my father worked with him, the instant, quiet respect my father commanded.

"He's got renal colic. Can only be confirmed by an X-ray, but I'd bet my soul on it. I don't have anything strong enough for the pain and a misdiagnosis would be a disaster. He needs to go to a hospital. Tell them, Izzie. Kidney stones, and they're infected. Keep him cool. He'll say he's freezing, but keep him wet and cool. And take him to the hospital."

And with that, he was gone.

"I can't go to the hospital," Letty said. "I don't go to hospitals. Ever."

"What?" I asked dumbly.

Dom rolled over into a fetal position, trembling. Only in the cancer ward in New York had I ever seen someone so violently ill.

"I don't go anywhere near them. I can't. I can't go. I'll pass out."

"Letty," I sighed.

"I seriously will. I'm sorry, but I can't. Not since my brother died."

"I have to puke," Dom said, and stood on shaky legs, stumbling. I took one of his arms quickly and wrapped it around my shoulders, helping him into the bathroom. His legs gave out beneath him and he clutched the toilet bowl, hurling into it. I stood with my hand over my mouth and watched in disbelief. He had very little in his stomach, and before long he was only dry-heaving uncontrollably. I knelt beside him and wrapped an arm about him, tears filling my eyes. Terrifying. I was terrified, to see someone I'd regarded as virtually invincible so incapacitated. With my free hand I rubbed between his eyes, a trick I'd learned from my father, distracting Dom's body from the task at hand enough so that he could stop gagging. He slumped forward with his face on the toilet seat, hugging the bowl, eyes closed.

"I'm gonna fuckin' die."

"You're not going to die," I whispered. "Let's get you to the hospital. They'll start an I.V. In fifteen minutes, you won't feel a thing."

He hesitated, but then finally nodded.

"Letty won't come with."

"Everyone else go out?" I asked, and he nodded, seized again by the gripping excruciation in his flanks.

"Okay, I'll take you. Come on."

The ride to the emergency room was awful. Dom was at wit's end, and could not take anymore. I checked him in once we got there and didn't see him again for two hours, calling Letty periodically to tell her I was still waiting...still waiting...still waiting.

Finally an ER doctor came and got me, told me that Dom had been admitted, and that he would be undergoing a minor operation to remove the stones; they were too large to pass, the infection was nasty, and his pain was extreme. He was in his room now, would be taken to a procedure room in forty-five minutes or an hour, and had asked to see me.

Dominic was absolutely doped to the gills, and his hurting was _still_ evident.

"Hey, homeboy," I said, and he smiled wanly, all melted back into the pillow.

"Am I gonna die, Iz?"

I scoffed.

"Of course not."

"This is easy?"

"Very easy," I said. He was afraid. "They make just this little slit in your belly and put a tube in it. Take them out. End of story. Not a big deal at all. And it's a hell of a lot less painful than having to pass them."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

He gave another forced, weak smile, then lifted his arm and stared at the tubes running into it.

"What are they putting in me?"

"I dunno," I said truthfully, and looked up at the bags hanging on the IV stand. "One is like intravenous Gatorade. Keeping you from being dehydrated. This one's penicillin, and the last one is...Morphine. Excellent."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"You call Leticia?" he asked.

"Not in a while. I will. You want me to call her right now?"

"Yeah."

I lifted the phone on the bedside table to my ear and punched in the number. Letty answered it before I even heard it ring.

"Izzie?"

"Yeah, Letty."

"Is he all right?" she asked.

"He's fine. He's got kidney stones, and he's going to have surgery in about a half-hour."

"Surgery? For what?"

"To remove them. But it's nothing serious at all. He'll probably be home tomorrow morning."

I heard Letty sigh.

"Awesome."

"They've got him all doped up and he's feeling much better. You want to talk to him?"

"Yeah."

I handed the phone to Dominic, helped him get situated, and sat in a chair next to his bed.

"Hey, Ruca," he said, smiling a little. His lips were dry and pale. There was a pause. "I'm okay. Isabel says I'll survive." I grinned. "It's okay. You don't have to worry, Mami. I'm okay." He was quiet, listening to her talk, and closed his eyes a moment. The entire room was silent, peaceful. I wondered what she was saying to make him so calm. "I will," he said finally. "I love you too." His voice sounded choked, almost as if he would cry. "Yeah. Bye." He held onto the phone a moment longer, then passed it to me.

I hung up, wondering for the first time if Jackson was still with Letty or if he'd gone back with my father. As if picking up my thoughts, Dom asked.

"Who was that guy with you?"

"That was Jackson Gauthier. My high school boyfriend."

"Looks nice."

"He got a girl pregnant on spring break in Florida while I sat home and went to church with his mother."

"Wonderful," Dom said, and then his brow creased with pain and his hand went to his side.

"Poor guy," I cooed. He flipped me the bird, and I laughed. "Keep it up, I'll turn your morphine off."

"How about you turn it UP?"

"If you weren't going in for surgery, I would. But I don't know what they're going to give you, and I don't want blood on my hands."

"Oh, okay." He closed his eyes, and I pulled my legs up onto the chair, hugging them to my chest. He was silent a long, long time, and I thought he was asleep. I jumped when he spoke. "Isabel, I'm really sorry."

I swallowed.

"For...?"

"For ruining you and Leon. That was my fault." His words were slurred, but still intelligible. I dropped my eyes. "I have a problem with fidelity, you know?" Confessions of the gorgeous and colic-plagued. "I should have kept my damned eyes off of you, and I should have ignored it when I saw you looking. And not only you, but I've fucked Leon over like this before. Only he doesn't usually care. But he cares about you. That's why he...He knew what would happen. He knew he wouldn't win."

"He _would_-"

"Izzie." He sounded so tired. His one word stopped the denial dead on my lips, and I felt tears burn in my eyes. "I know you love Leon. Without me, and with more time, I can see the two of you living happily ever after. White picket fence, five kids, and a dog." I laughed.

"Five?"

"Yeah. But. I'm here. And you only have the summer."

"So what's the deal, Dom? What do you want with me? Why DIDN'T you ignore me when I looked at you, and keep your damned eyes off of me?"

"You're gorgeous," he said. "You just don't know it. And you're smart, and you're interesting. You're so...different. A good different. You make me wish like hell that I had done things differently in my life."

"But you love Letty, Dom. And she's smart and gorgeous and sexy and interesting."

"She is. And she's been with me since the day I got out of prison."

"Prison," I repeated numbly. In the past four weeks combined, I had not heard so many words come out of Dominic Toretto's mouth.

"Yeah. Lompoc. In California." The last word was garbled as he doubled over. "Jesus Christ," he hissed. "I have never hurt so bad in my entire life."

"They say it's like labor," I said softly. "They should be coming to get you soon."

He rode out the pain, then leaned slowly back into the pillow, beads of sweat glinting on his forehead.

"You're not going to come around anymore," he stated. "Because of the thing with Leon. Are you."

"I don't know, Dominic. I don't think so."

"Strange, isn't it? How many different ways you can love, and lust, and..." He waved a hand. "Whatever."

"You love Letty," I said. "But you want to sleep with other people. And do you love any of the other girls you fuck?"

"Not usually."

"Then why is it worth hurting her over?"

"It's not. I don't know why I do it. But I haven't done it...Not much...Since I met you that night at that party and...And you were there with Leon and Letty was crying in the kitchen." He was truly running at the mouth now. "But it's not the same with you."

"No?" I asked. At this point, I had not a fucking clue in regards to what he would say next.

"No." He opened his eyes and met my gaze and held it for a long moment, as if he were trying desperately to choose his next words wisely but lacked the mental organization to do so. Then another wave of pain swept away completely any remnants of his train of thought. It hurt me to see him hurting, this big, beautiful man, father figure to everyone, and I was both relishing and regretting having to be there to help him through it. Letty belonged there with him, and her irrational fear baffled and aggravated me. I wondered where Mia was, and why she was unreachable as her primary caretaker lay here so sick. And Leon, and the big filthy guy. I wondered about them too, but was immeasurably glad that Leon was not there. I was nowhere close to ready to see him.

"I wish I could talk to Maria before they come get me," Dom said, truncating my wondering.

"Maria?" I asked.

"Mia. My sister."

"It will be fine." I took his hand and squeezed it. It was evident in his eyes that the morphine was fucking with him, making him nervous and unsure of what was going on, amplifying every emotion and loosening his tongue. I wasn't sure he was reacting to the drug very well, and made a mental note to suggest an alternative to his doctor.

I held his hand until a couple nurses and an M.D. came for him. He pulled me in for a quick hug, clinging tightly, and I kissed his forehead without thinking about it.

"Go on," I said. "I'll be here when you're done." The nurses wheeled him out, and I followed them into the hallway, catching the doctor's sleeve and commenting, in medical jargon, so he'd take me seriously, on Dom's reaction to the morphine. He smiled kindly and thanked me for the observation, said he would arrange for something else immediately.

Just as Dom disappeared into an elevator, Vince appeared out of one at the opposite end of the hallway.

He jogged toward me with a concerned scowl on his face.

"Where is he?"

"Just went into surgery," I said.

"He all right?"

"He'll be just fine," I said, and was touched that Vince was there. Brooding, distant, with an explosive temper and a cranky-toddler demeanor, he was the last person I had expected to see.

"This just came out of nowhere?" he asked. Another surprise-his breath was odorless and he was clean.

"What sometimes happens is they form and don't cause any irritation until they get stuck somewhere along the way, this time actually in his kidneys. And it may have ached for days, but he mistook it for the usual, since he's a pretty physical guy. But they're all infected and too big for him to pass, so-"

"Pass?"

"Piss out," I clarified, and Vince half-smiled. "So they're just going to make a small cut and draw them out through a tube."

"But he's fine?" Vince asked.

"He's fine.

"For sure?"

"Not a doubt in my mind."

Vince sighed audibly, and it occurred to me that this was his only family. That meathead Italian headed up for surgery was all he had. All any of them had, even. They had each other, but it also occurred to me that they probably would never be able to function should anything happen to Dominic Toretto. They all loved him, deeply, and he nurtured and provided for them, made them a support system for one another, had good old-fashioned sit-down meals. Now if only he could quit fucking their girlfriends.

Vince sat with me silently and waited. I didn't initiate conversation with him and he didn't talk to me. He'd gotten what he needed from me: assurance that Dom was all right.

I wanted to ask him what had happened with Letty's brother that scared her so much she absolutely refused to come with Dom, but I respected his space, respected him for being there, and kept my mouth shut.

My ass ached from having sat so much that day, so before long I was pacing. When I thought I'd better stop or suffer a broken neck at Vince's hands, I moved my psychosis out into the hallway, and was just in time to see them roll Dom by.

He was still out, absolutely motionless, and peaceful as a slumbering newborn. The sight of him brought tears to my eyes, and for the first time that day, I let them fall. Wrapped my arms around myself and let them fall. All the stress and tension, all the heartache and guilt and responsibility, all the regret and worry, the perfectionism, the pain, the fever...It was all gone from him and he slept. He just slept.


	22. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

Vince and I sat side-by-side outside Dominic's room. It was taking him longer than normal to come out, but the nice, middle-aged doctor had told us there was no cause for concern yet; everyone reacted differently. And, out of nowhere, Vince started talking to me.

"I know it seems bad, that she's not here. But her...her parents died in a wreck. Her kid brother, too. Parents died right away in the emergency room, and they put her in the same room with Ruben. Both of 'em were banged up bad, about the same chance of recovery. They thought stickin' 'em together would be good, they'd get better. Let got better and Ruben died. Whole family went into the hospital and only Letty left alive."

"Ssshit," I said, shaking my head and running my fingeres back through my hair. "No wonder."

"Dom got hurt once before. Engine dropped and just smashed his arm. She was the only one with him, so she drove him to the hospital, to the parking lot. She got up to the sliding doors with him and passed out. Woke up with smelling salts and they tried to take her in to let her lay down. They're lucky they're still breathin', the way she flipped. God forbid anything ever happens to HER." He shook his head. "Like a switch goes off in her brain. There's no rationalizing that shit for her. She can't come here. She cannot. Jesse had alcohol poisoning once, and same thing happened. She's only one sober. Drives him up, passes out, flips out when she comes to." Vince shrugged. "She can't help it."

"Of course she can't help it," I said softly.

Dom's doctor came out of the room then, with a wide, bright grin.

"He's waking up. Go on in to see him. Probably disoriented, so move slow and talk quiet and you'll be fine."

I returned her smile. I liked her.

He WAS confused and disoriented at first, blinking up at us unseeingly, and then he smiled and croaked,

"Sheeit."

Vince and I both laughed.

"Welcome back, dawg," Vince said, in that friendly, growly voice of his, and I felt awkward, out of place somehow. I crossed the room to the window to give them some privacy and peered out.

"Speak of the devil," I mused, and there was Letty, pacing like a caged animal, back and forth in front of that beautiful Nissan of hers, massaging the small of her back and pausing every once in a while to glance up at the hospital.

"Be right back," I said, and ducked out of Dom's room.

The wind had shifted, and outside it was cool and tense, as if it would storm, as if it wanted to storm and couldn't make up its mind. The electricity was thick in the air, and the breeze was damp as it licked at my arms and legs. Letty stopped mid-pace and looked up at me.

"Hey," she sighed, and looked pale and ill, exhausted, and I opened my arms to her, embraced her.

"He just woke up," I said, into her shoulder. "He's doin really good right now. Came through just fine."

"Yeah? Is he better?"

"He's much better. He's not hurting at all anymore."

"God, I want to see him."

"Come in, then. I'll catch you if you faint."

"You think I'm stupid, don't you." She pulled back and ran her hand back through her hair, rings on every finger.

"Nah, I don't think you're stupid. Vince told me the deal."

"V's here?"

"Yeah," I said.

"And you're not goin' anywhere?"

"No, I can stay here with him if you want to."

"Yeah," she said, and studied my face. I tore my gaze away from her, stared down the body of her car. "I just can't do it. I can't go in there."

"It's okay, Letty," I assured her soothingly. "I'll tell him you were here. He understands, I'm sure he does."

Letty nodded.

"Yeah. Still feel like shit, though."

"He'll be home tomorrow morning, probably, and you can take care of him then. He'll need you."

She nodded once again.

"Okay. Thank you, Izzie. You're the shit for doing this."

"No prob." I felt like a shit, all right.

"See ya, Mizz Iz. Tell him I love him and I'll see him tomorrow."

"Sure. Get some sleep, Let. You look like hell."

"Letty was here," I announced, and Dom cracked a warm smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. She says she loves you and she'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, that's a step, though, right? The parking lot?" Dom said, and Vince nodded. "How did she look? Was she okay?"

"Tired, but she's gonna go home and get some sleep. She'll be all right."

Vince and Dom dicked around with the remote, and a nurse brought Dom supper, but Vince ate it, even the quivering gelatinous mass that was supposed to be rice pudding.

I dozed off for a while in a really uncomfortable, vinyl-upholstered armchair, and when I woke, Vince was gone. The room was silent but for the steady beep of a heartrate monitor. The TV was on, but it was muted, and Dom was propped up on some pillows, staring at it unseeingly. I yawned and stretched, and when I stood to rub my back, he turned that lazy black gaze on me.

"Hey, Isabel," he said, the husky rumble of that deep voice cutting the quiet in two.

"Hey, Dom," I said, my voice still airy and light from sleep. "You should get some rest."

"Nah, I can't sleep. _Don't_ sleep, usually."

I smiled a little.

"No? Then what do you do, usually, at night?"

"Work out," he replied, without hesitation. My eyes ran over his body involuntarily and he saw, but didn't call me on it. I cleared my throat.

"How do you feel?"

"I been better. I feel shitloads better than I did three hours ago though, that's for damn sure."

I smiled.

"Good."

"It was so weird. They put this needle in my arm and I watched the drip come down the tube, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up."

"I told you it would be easy."

I went to the window and tugged absentmindedly at the curtain. I stared out, but it was dark, and the image I saw was in my mind's eye: Letty, pacing, worried and sick, and me in here, playing house with her boyfriend.

"Izzie," Dom said, and I nearly sprang from my skin.

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong."

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Bullshit, nothing. What's going on?"

I swallowed hard. _Don't cry, you big fuckin' baby._

"Isabel, look at me," he commanded with gentle insistence, and I shook my head again.

"She says I'm the shit," I whispered. "For staying here with you."

"This again," he said, flatly. "Isabel Adams. LOOK at me." And I looked at him, eyes filling with tears against my authority. "Aw, Izzie," he said, and his voice was so soft and soothing, so full of care and understanding. "Izzie, don't cry babe." He reached out a tube-laden arm to me.

I went to him, sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, and he pulled me in close to his body. If he was sore from surgery, he didn't show it.

"Izzie, I've said it before and I'll say it again. You've done nothing wrong. Letty knows how you feel about me, and she knows I'm attracted to you, and it only proves how much we both care about her that we aren't acting on those feelings."

"She asked you?"

"Yes," he said. "She did."

"And what did you say?"

"I said something almost happened in the hotel lounge but nothing did and nothing's going to."

I remembered that night...my birthday. At the piano. Shaking. His lips on my shoulder. And as I remembered it, I cried. I cried because that memory remained so beautiful in my mind, and what we had done had been so, so wrong. I cried bitterly and he held me, rocked me a little, and he kissed my forehead. I felt my body stiffen as his mouth touched my skin, and pulled back and stared up at him. He licked his bottom lip. Nervous? I wasn't sure. But his ebony gaze was intense, focused, reading me like a book.

"It's gonna be okay," Dominic said, barely above a whisper. "Relax." And he brushed my mouth with his, every-so-briefly, like he was kissing his sister. But then something changed in him. Some live flicker crossed his features, and he came back toward me.

The words 'Holy shit' barely had time to dart through my mind, and then we were kissing. For real. I wrapped my arms around his neck cautiously and opened my fingers over the velvet stubble on the back of his head, my heart kicking violently at my ribs. I wanted to devour him, felt as if I'd been waiting my entire life to really kiss him, but I was hesitant. I was shaking, and just held onto him, my head spinning out of control, and let him kiss me.

His lips were soft and full, not too dry and not too wet, and he exhaled slowly through his nose, gentle breaths caressing my upper lip, eyelashes tickling my forehead, an easy, steadying hold on my waist. His kiss was deep and slow and long, careful not to hurt himself or scare me, exploratory, eternal, it seemed, and eventually I moved my hands to his face and kissed him back, and then _he_ was still, just let me taste him, let me discover the curves and contours of his mouth.

And Letty, and Jackson, and Leon, were the furthest possible thoughts from our minds.

When I tried to pull away, he took my head in his hands and brought my face back to his, and I let him. This time he didn't kiss me, though, just pressed my forehead to his and stared wordlessly into my eyes for a long, long while. I could feel his chest rise and fall against my breasts with each deep breath he drew. I felt tiny there with him, weak and small, but so, so safe.

Finally the corner of his beautiful mouth tugged upward in a dazed, cocky grin. It was contagious, and I followed suit before I even knew what I was smiling about.

"Think that'll hold us for a while?" he asked, and I laughed softly. My body was humming, mind reeling, and there was no guilt. Yet.

"I hope so."

I drove Dom home the next morning and helped him onto the couch, into the tender loving care of Leticia Garcia herself. I handed her the paperwork on Dom's meds and read through it with her, translated it into layman's terms. Amoxicillin three times a day with food, and two Percs every four hours. No booze. Easy enough. I gave her the keys to the car and walked home.

Jackson must have heard the muscle engine roar by, because he was waiting for me at the front door, holding it open, wearing a blue polo and new chinos and a soft smile.

"Everything all right?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Everything's fine."

It was a strange two weeks. I was awful to Jackson, and he met my aggression with unwavering self-control and kindness. Quiet, gentle soul. Nice to a fault. And I tried my damnedest to make him angry, to get under his skin and start a brawl. But he'd have none of it. He did not want to fight with me. The most I got out of him was a wounded silence or two, but he never left my side unless I demanded that he do so, in which case he would tag along golfing or swimming with my parents, and I worked on independent study courses. I had three months worth of work to do and six weeks left of vacation, and I sincerely regretted picking up the classes. Not that it had been my idea, or even my choice. My father had insisted that I would not be wasting my time sitting through rudimentary textbook classes that could be completed in spare summer time by way of correspondence. He'd directed me to get some of my requisites out of the way so that I could begin actually learning in the fall.

So I pounded myself into my textbooks. English, Algebra, Geography, and Latin. And Jackson would lie on my bed and watch me, or read, or sleep, or do sit ups and pushups. When I'd look at him, he would flash his blinding white American golden-boy smile, which I usually responded to with a Letty-riffic scowl. I studied full-time, eight or nine hours a day, and when I laid down in bed at night, Jackson beside me but not ever touching me, Dom and Leon and Letty and Vince and Viri were there. The cars, the hotel, the night Dom had smashed that little Mexican's face in, the words and laughter, glimpses and glances of my time with them, an aching wish for more time with them, and a fear that my wish would come true. And yet, I heard nothing from the house three doors down for weeks.

Jackson had been gearing up to it for days, so, as I put my pens and papers away for the night and he asked if we could talk, I knew what he was going to say. He loved me, he needed me, yadda yadda yadda.

"I didn't just come here to annoy you, Izzie, or rub your face in what I did. I'm sorry about the way I broke it off. I was panicking. I was scared. It was me I was angry at, not you."

I fixed him with a look of bored apathy and folded my arms over my chest. I was not, in the least, in the mood to hear all this. The steady, distant thump of a party rang out down the street, and I'd have given my mother's hope of Heaven to be there. But I wasn't. I was stuck. With this:

"I know what I did was wrong. As soon as I was sober, I regretted it like crazy. It was bad. It didn't even FEEL good."

"That has nothing to do with anything, Jackson."

"I know it doesn't," he said quickly. "I'm just telling you, I completely regret it. And I am so, so sorry. We were good together. I wanted to marry you. And I messed up, compromised myself and my morals. In my eyes, in your eyes, and in the eyes of God."

"Oh, Jesus, Jackson," I snapped. "If you start talking church to me, I will fucking go off."

He winced and stared with no small amount of disbelief at my harsh words. There was an awkward silence, and it was not broken until the phone on the desk rang. I swiveled, relieved beyond belief, and picked it up.

"Isabel, Isabel." It was Letty's voice, singsong and thick with booze. "Whatcha doin', girl?"

"What am I doing?" I looked at Jackson. "Absolutely nothing. Why?"

"We're partying down here," she said. "Biiiig party. And we're just getting started. Why don't you come on over?"

"Oh, I dunno if Leon would appreciate that."

"Man, fuck Leon. This is my house too, and Dom's, and Vince's. And we never got to thank you properly. So get dressed, come on down, and let us get you drunk."

I was quiet for a minute. Debating this. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Come on. There's a bottle of Cuervo with your name on it, lady."

I laughed.

"All right, Let. Gimme a few."

"Sure thang," she said, and the line went dead.

"What's going on?" Jackson asked, his eyes following me as I crossed the room to the closet.

"I'm partying," I replied. "And you're staying here. That's what's going on."

I pulled out a few choice articles and placed them on the bed beside Jackson, standing almost directly before him. His eyes were glued to the clothes I'd laid out, and I couldn't help a smug smirk of self-satisfaction. Emboldened by his shock, intoxicated by this newfound, nasty control over him, and desperate to prove that I was no longer even remotely the girl who'd been _his_ Izzie, I grasped the hem of my sundress and peeled it up over my head. He was going to watch the transformation, and it was going to hurt him, as badly as he had hurt me, and I was going to enjoy it.

So I stood before him in my boring white cotton underwear and sports bra, and my new body, and smiled. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't tear his eyes away from me as I tugged the bra up and off and discarded it. I hooked my thumbs in the waistline of my panties and drew them down over my hips, down my legs, torturously slow, stepping out of them with an almost comical daintiness. I kicked them aside and reached for the top item in the ridiculously small pile on the bed.

As I pulled the black g-string up and on, I kept my eyes locked on his. He had a two-fisted, white-knuckled grip on the bedspread, lips slightly parted, a red flush of arousal in his face. But I completely refused to admit to myself how devastatingly good-looking he was as I reached for the $150.00 black lace scallop-edged miracle bra.

It seemed like it took an eternity, and I felt like a goddess, the center of his universe, slipping the no-waist black leather mini up around my hips and rasping up the zipper, pulling on the skin-tight white ribbed tank, with its dangerously low neckline, cut just low enough so the scalloping of the bra peeked over.

Then I sat next to Jackson, nearly in his lap, my upper arm brushing his, as I put on the thick white socks and black combat boots. I brought my makeup out of the bathroom and applied it in front of the full-length, the dark lipstick, the shimmery white eyeshadow, the thick, glossy mascara. I gelled my curls into wavy submission and, making perfectly clear to him what I was doing, I fished around in my top drawer for a condom, sliding it into the tiny hip pocket of my skirt.

"See ya when I see ya," I said, blowing him a kiss, and shut the bedroom door behind me with a soft click.

The party was _pounding_. Letty met me at the door, already well on her way to blissful oblivion, and embraced me, kissing my cheek.

"I missed you, Mizz Iz. Dun be a stranger like that no mo'."

I laughed at her goofy dialect, and when she released me from her arms, I found myself facing Dominic Toretto's massive chest. I looked up at him and smiled, and he just barely looked at me, caught me in a brief, chaste hug.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome," he said, voice gravelly and booming, and I grinned. "Welcome to my party."

Vince was trashed and happy about it, and even he wrapped me sloppily in his arms and kissed me loudly on the cheek.

"Hello, darlin'. Hey, hey, hey," he said.

"Hey, hey, hey yourself."

Dom seemed to have fully recovered, because he and Letty sparred at the center of a raucous crowd, everyone bowling over with laughter as he allowed himself to be pummelled mercilessly, WWF-style. The place was packed, sweaty, and smelled pretty ripe, but it was a happy party. Letty saw me standing by myself and shoved Dom off of her, grabbing a bottle of tequila from a nearby coffee table and snagging me by the arm. As she dragged me toward the kitchen counter, which was serving as a five-star bar, I caught a pair of cool green eyes from across the room, only briefly. I stopped a minute, wanted to call out to him, his name stuck in my throat. Leon. But he only looked at me for a fraction of an instant before turning away.

"Wha'smatter?" Letty asked, searching my face, and I shook my head.

"Nothing. Let's go."

Shot after shot, with an audience, on a stomach that had been empty for two days. It was _maybe_ fifteen minutes before the liquor hit me like a ton of bricks. I lost track of Letty; she went off somewhere, piggybacking on Dom. She told me where they were going, but I was hearing her from beneath a rolling sea of tequila, and whatever she said never registered. I stood at the counter for a moment, watching everyone and wallowing in the Pool of Enhanced Emotions, better known as drunkenness. My clouded, practicality-free mind dredged up all sorts of wicked shit to torment me with.

I spent five minutes playing and replaying my first orgasm. My shamefully accurate steel trap of a memory didn't let me escape from a solitary detail. I was assaulted by the soft leather of the Escalade's seat beneath my thighs, the easy urgency of Leon's lips, the steady, stroking rhythm of his hand between my legs, and the delicious explosion as a result thereof.

_And tonight he won't even look at me_, I thought bitterly.

I spent another five recalling the string of sins directly related to one Dominic Toretto-the booming down-and-dirty booty shake at the club in Mexico City, the easy elegance of moments shared at the keys of a Steinway grand, and the sublime oral exploration of and with him at the hospital.

_And tonight he won't even look at me._

I was yanked from self-pity by an arm around my waist, and I turned to ascertain its owner, struggling to focus belligerent, booze-bleary eyes.

"Hey," the boy said, and I flashed a cheesy, inebriated grin.

"Hey. Who are you?" I did not know this guy from Adam.

"Trent," he said. His eyes were baby blue and his hair was bleach-blonde and he looked to be about my age.

"I'm Izzie."

Trent was a sloppy kisser, but I couldn't really hold it against him. He was _at least_ as fucked up as me, as I sat with him on the loveseat against the wall in the midst of the festive chaos. He gave me a pill to swallow, and suddenly, within minutes, I was not thinking anything, only feeling.

The colors in the room were bright beyond belief, so bright that they hurt my eyes and I had to keep them closed. I don't remember climbing into Trent's lap, but I remember being sprawled there, my ass on his legs, my head on the arm of the sofa, my arms hanging limp at my sides, and his hand up my skirt, between my thighs. The fact that we were in public never entered my mind. Every sensation was amplified ten fold, and each time his fingers hit me, it sent bolts of pleasure rocketing through my core. He was going to make me come. I didn't know his last name, even, and he was going to make me come...I was so, so close...

And suddenly, someone grabbed my arm and jerked hard, so hard that I was on my feet. My shoulder throbbed and my stomach lurched and my heart pounded. My knees gave way, and I sagged in this person's arms.

"Stand up," came the gruff command. I knew that voice. Who...? I hung there, trying to figure it out. Each time I came close, I was distracted by his shirt. It was waffle-textured, and I _had_ to touch it, running my fingers over it in bemused wonder. "Izzie, STAND THE FUCK UP." Startled into complacency, I locked my knees and looked him in the face.

Shit. It was Leon.

"Can you walk?" he asked me. I nodded mutely. "Good. Let's go." He took me by the elbow and dragged me through the jumping, pulsing crowd, out the front door and into the breezy Puerto Vallartan night. I was upset that he was angry with me, but was uncontrollably inclined to touch the siding on the house. He spun me to face him and held my jaw in his hand so I would listen. Behind us, the door was open and someone was watching. Vince? Letty? I didn't know.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he exploded, a mixture of pain and rage plainly displayed on his features.

"I dunno," I answered honestly.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing? This isn't you, Izzie. This SHIT isn't you." He snatched a bottle of beer out of my hand that I hadn't even known I was holding and smashed it on the street. I jumped at the noise. "You're fucking up. You got shitloads to live for and you're fucking everything up. You're too good for this, Izzie. Too good for me, too good for Dom, too good for this house, too good for this fucking party. Getting jerked off by some asshole, doing shots, popping X...Don't you fucking THINK?" He was quiet for a moment while I pulled my chin away from him and puked at his feet. I rose then to face him again, and he shook his head, just absolutely leveling me with that glare of his. Cold. Green. And when he continued, he was eerily calm. "You don't belong here, Izzie. I don't want to see you here anymore. I don't want to see you like _this_...anymore. Go home. Go home and be with Jackson. _That's_ where you belong." He turned me around by the shoulders, pointing me in the direction of my house and giving me a gentle shove. "Go home and be with Jackson."

My eyes were dry, and my face was hot with a defiant flush. Every nerve was still humming, but my head was surprisingly clear.

Jackson was sleeping on his side, in a tee shirt and boxers, and I entered the room, closed the door, and locked it quietly. Leon wanted me to be with Jackson? That was where I belonged? Fine. I did not give a shit anymore. I unlaced my boots, cool and calculated, and climbed in under the sheets with him. I pressed my body up against his and he stirred. Dropping one hand between us, I reached into his boxers, took his dick in my hand.

He jolted and woke, blinking at me, wide-eyed with disbelief. "Izzie!" he hissed. "What are you doing?"

"I want you to fuck me," I said, fearless, and his expression changed. He looked at me, unsure, scanning my face for any hint that this might be a game.

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

He was fully hard now, and took me by the wrist, pulling my hand out of his pants. He rolled over on top of me, between my legs, and sought my mouth with his. I jerked my face away. "I don't want you to kiss me, Jackson. I just want you to fuck me."

"Come on, Izzie," he sighed. "You don't want it to be like this."

I locked my eyes, sure and steady, on his. "Don't I?"

He said nothing as I shoved his boxers down around his knees and hiked my skirt up around my waist, scrounging the condom out of my pocket and pressing it into his palm. He drew a long, shaky breath and looked at it for a moment. The room was wheeling out of control, but my thoughts were clear.

Jackson frowned a little, sitting back on his heels and meeting my gaze as he tore open the little gold package. "

"You're sure," he said incredulously, and I nodded.

"I'm sure."


	23. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

I could feel tears welling in my eyes but I forced them back, and my heart was pounding. My GOD, my heart was pounding. I watched as he rolled the condom down the length of him, watched as the dark, blood-filled skin became chalky latex, and I felt sick to my stomach. I knew this wasn't how it was supposed to be, but I just wanted to get it over with. Enough bullshit. I just wanted it over with.

"Izzie-"

"Jackson, if you ask me one more time-"

No," he said. "Listen. Someone is calling you." I opened my eyes and frowned up at him. I heard nothing. "This is wrong." He yanked the condom off and threw it. "There's someone standing outside calling you," he pointed at the window, "And this is wrong."

Over the roaring rushing blood in my ears, I heard nothing. "I don't hear anything," I said dumbly.

Jackson held up one finger for me to wait and threw open the window. A deep, rumbling roar came through with the night air: "ISABEL ADAMS, DON'T YOU **DARE**!"

I moaned and flopped back into the pillow. Jackson gave me a lingering look, a mixture of shock, disgust and confusion, and then zipped his pants and left my room, shutting the door behind him with a panicked, emphatic BANG.

I stood slowly, my entire body shaking, and went to the window. When I peered out, I saw Dom coming toward me, scaling the side of my house like Spiderman.

"Go home," I said.

"Don't you do it, Izzie," he said, quickly, breathlessly. "Vince told me what Leon said to you and I know what you're thinking, but don't you dare go through with it."

"You're gonna fall and kill yourself," I said flatly, and I stepped back away from the window so he could climb over the sill and into my room. He stood before me in a wifebeater and blue Dickies.

"Ah, _shit_!" he said, staring at the floor and running one hand back over his head. "Too late, huh? What the hell did you do that for, Izzie? Jesus."

I could not believe the amount of pain in those words, and I followed his line of vision to the condom Jackson had discarded. I laughed, and he looked at me as if I'd gone mad.

"I didn't do anything, Dom. Dun worry." My legs gave out and I slumped against the bed on the floor at his feet. "Don't you worry. You got here just in time. And I'm gonna be a virgin forever, just like everybody wants." I picked at the fringe of a peach-colored throw-rug, loving the way the tassels felt as they slipped between my fingers.

What are you on?" he asked, head cocked to one side, watching my morbid fixation with the carpet.

I gave a contented sigh, "Tequila and Xtasy."

"Jesus Christ."

I glared up at him, suddenly annoyed with him, for reasons beyond my comprehension.

"I was just about to fuck Jackson, you know."

"I know. As soon as Vince told me what Leon said to you, I knew that's what you were going to do. Why do you think I climbed up your drainpipe?"

I laughed mirthlessly. "I can see the headlines now: 'Gallant Hero Narrowly Preserves Rich-Girl's Virtue.'"

"You don't love Jackson."

"No," I said soberly, and stared up-WAY up-into Dom's face. "I love you."

Dom stood frozen a moment, and I was beyond humility, just staring up at him. Finally he cleared his throat. He dropped to his knees before me and took my face in his hands, and his gaze was so intense I felt as if it were burning me.

"Izzie," he whispered. "I don't know what's going on, but I feel something for you, too. I wish I could tell you what it is. Shit, I wish I could tell mySELF what it is. It's not like anything else...It's not this steamy thing, like I can't keep my hands off of you, so it's not...It's not the same as with all the other 'other girls'. But I want to touch you. And when I'm around you, I feel...It's almost like I feel nervous. Like I care what you think of me, of what I say and do. That never happens. And I feel like you see _me_. For me. Not for the cars or the body or the image or the money, or for my relationship with Letty, or any of that bullshit. Just me. And that is priceless to me. That fucking _never_ happens." He paused and searched my face a moment before continuing. "And it scares me, that I won't live up to what you see. I'm doubting myself, you know? It's scary because it would be so easy for me to say, 'Fuck it, Iz, let's go for it. Fuck Leon and Letty and everything else and let's just go off somewhere.' Because I _know_ that look in your eyes. You are different, but I've seen that look before...You'd do anything for me. Anything. I know that if I picked you up and put you on that bed and I wanted to fuck you, you'd let me. You'd tell me, 'It's yours, Dom, take it.'" I nodded.

"Take it," I said softly. "It's yours, Dom, take it. I don't want it anymore."

"And see?" He threw his hands up in surrender. "That's a crying shame. Because you're pure, and that's a beautiful thing, and everyone jokes about it, Izzie, makes you feel like an idiot for holding onto it. Like being a virgin is a social flaw. Fuck that. It's not. The _second_ I heard Letty say that you were a virgin at the picnic table a long, long time ago, that put you on a pedestal in my mind. That moved you up on my list, set you apart."

"I'm sick of it, though, Dom," I said, my voice cracking on his name, and I began to cry. "I'm sick of being set apart. I'm so sick of it." I gripped the front of his wifebeater in two fists for support. "I want to feel it. I want to know what it's like. I don't want to be a baby anymore. I don't want to wait any longer. I want to do it. I want you to do it." I let my eyes fall away from his and he released my face, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me in close.

"God, you have no idea how much I want to."

The words stunned me. All the hundreds of words he'd just dumped on me had stunned me. Dom Toretto wanted me as much as I wanted him.

"But?" I prodded.

"But I _can't_, Izzie."

"Because of Letty?" I fought to free myself of his embrace, but my efforts were fruitless.

"No," he growled softly, frustrated. "Because you're fucked up. Because you're shitfaced and you don't want to do it that way. And I don't want to do it _to_ you that way. And...You're too good for me, Izzie. I don't deserve to do it."

"Christ," I hissed, and then just sobbed. "I'm just a girl, for Christ's sake, Dominic. Who the hell cares who my parents are and where I live?" I looked up at him, and he just stared solemnly down on me, dark brown eyes sad, brows furrowed.

"I'm gonna get you into bed and I'm gonna go," he said, finally. "Because I don't trust myself. And you're gonna go to sleep. Come on." He hauled me gently to my feet and sat me on the edge of the bed. I was so fucked up that it took every ounce of strength to keep from flopping back onto the mattress. He took my huge hoop earrings out and laid them on the bedstand, and unlaced one boot and tugged it off of me, and as he did so I lost my balance. I hit the comforter hard and just laid there.

I could see his clean-shaven crown between my knees as he squatted there, and swallowed hard. The unexplainable compulsion to touch anything and everything was going to get me in trouble. The urge to touch Dom was incredible, overwhelming. And as he undid my other boot, squatting at the side of my bed, focused on my foot, I realized that his head was centered directly between my knees. I had made note of it before, but now I realized its sexual implications, and when I propped up on my elbows to get a better look, I got a little jolt of a shiver, betraying my thoughts. Dom raised his head slowly, and when he looked at me, I knew he'd been aware of the same thing, even before I'd shuddered.

His eyes were smoldering, reflecting the pale blue of the tropical moonlight, and his gaze was steady, unwavering. I broke it, finally, and glanced at the black leather hem of my skirt, then drew a deep breath and dragged my eyes back to the limitless plummet of his lust. I caught a brief glimpse of his tongue as he licked his lips and lifted his hands, slowly, to my knees. With an almost humorous caution, he slid them up to rest on my thighs. My gaze fell tot he sensuous dampness of his beautifully expressive mouth, and I sighed shakily. I could tell he read my thoughts, and that they coincided with his own.

"Can I taste you, Izzie?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, but so, so deep. I felt like I would faint.

_Yessss!_ my mind screamed. _Yes, you sexy bastard. Yes._

But I only nodded meekly, so nervous. My skin was humming, my heart was racing. My nose was cold and my lips and fingertips tingled, and I wondered how many of those strange sensations were due to drug and how many were due to Dom.

He rose slowly to his feet without moving his hands from my legs, towering over me, just staring down at my body lain out before him, and I wondered what he saw, what I looked like to him. He turned from me then and crossed the room with easy, graceful strides, locking the door, and then returning to me, and I was shaking like a leaf. He reached out and took my hips in his hands, the muscles in his arms and shoulders shapeshifting as he lifted one knee to the bed beside me and then another and pulled me with him, positioning me with an intoxicating gentleness. It was as if he knew what I was feeling, what I needed, and he helped me into the mound of white pillows, the second man in 10 minutes to sit back on his heels between my legs.

Dom was trembling. I noticed that his hands were trembling as he dragged the zipper down on the skirt and slipped it down and off of me. He came back up to me then, and hooked his fingertips in the slutty little g-string's waistline, ridding me of it quickly. He knelt before me and I didn't realize that my legs were clenched together until he eased them apart with one practiced (but shaking) hand.

"Relax," he said, all throaty baritone, and I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to himself, but I obeyed, falling open for him. "You are so beautiful, Isabel." His gaze dropped, then, and I closed my eyes, so I sensed, rather than saw, and I felt the side of his face, rough and needing a shave, graze the inside of my thigh.  
><em>Good. God. Almighty.<em>

Dom put everything he had to good use, and I lost track of what was his mouth and what was his hands. From the waist down, I was in flames, crashing and burning beneath him, nervous at first and then completely outside of myself, giving the last remnants of my self-control over to Dominic Toretto. When I came, it was nothing like what it had been with Leon. It was insane, it was powerful, consuming, rapacious, ravaging my body and drowning my mind, and it seemed to last forever.

At first, upon opening my eyes, I was blind. Lights and colors ran rampant across my mind's eye, and his image came to me slowly. He was blinking, dazed, and sober, his face almost in a frown, as if he were worried he'd done something wrong. He licked his top lip, then pulled the bottom one into his mouth and sucked it clean. I was gasping for breath, felt completely drained, and all I could do was reach for him. And then he was beside me, crushing me against him, and I was crying and he was not shushing me, only holding me, only letting me know that it was all right, and at one point he kissed my ear and told me again that I was beautiful.

I must have fallen asleep in his arms, because I don't remember him leaving. I didn't remember him leaving, didn't remember him saying goodbye, and when I woke, I wondered if perhaps it had been a wicked, drug-induced fantasy, but there was a note on the nightstand, written in surprisingly neat penmanship.  
><em>It's all OK, Isabel.<br>Love, Dom_

I started to shake and dropped the note into my top drawer. Jesus Christ, what had I done? But the panic passed as quickly as it had come, and a deep, easy calm set in. An alarmingly calm calm. I had to find Jackson and apologize, and no one would ever know anything about what had transpired between myself and Dominic. Not Letty, not Leon, not Jackson. No one. I dressed slowly, in blue jeans and a nondescript tee shirt, and walked out into the hallway, yawning loudly. There were voices in the kitchen and I stumbled drowsily toward them.

My father, my mother and Jackson, the happy family. Everyone was all dressed and pressed and brushed, and as I glanced at the clock, I realized why. It was two o' clock in the afternoon, and they were eating not breakfast, but lunch. Jackson did not meet my gaze, but my father did, with a dark reprimand.

"Nice of you to stumble out of bed," he said, and my mom rested a hand on his, in an attempt to silence him, but it was for naught. He shook his hand free of hers and continued. "I don't suppose you were at that party down the street last night." I looked at him, a look of feigned shock.

"Why, Dad. Are you... _sober_?" I smirked and plucked an orange from the fruit bowl at the center of the table. He was not amused.

"Answer the question, Izzie."

"You didn't ask me a damn question. You said 'I don't suppose...' That is a statement." I slumped into a chair and kicked Jackson beneath the table. He jumped and looked up at me, and I grinned. He glowered back at me. "Sheesh. What a party crowd."

"Were you at Toretto's house last night or were you not? How's that for a question?"

"I were not," I lied. "Not that it's any of your business."

Jackson shook his head and let his fork clank down onto his plate, shoving his chair back and standing up and stalking out the front door. I laughed a little.

"Temper, temper."

My parents glared at me, stone-faced, and I sighed and went after him, bare-foot, hair a mess, in my awful clothes. He was standing in front of the house with his hands in his pockets, and when I came up beside him, he refused to look at me.

"Jackson," I said quietly. "Let's go in the back and talk." I took his arm gently, and he looked down at my hands on his skin. I felt awful suddenly, looking at his face. I'd punished him enough. Too much. He'd made one uncharacteristic mistake and he'd panicked and for two weeks I'd been nothing but awful to him, and then I'd demanded that he fuck me, and now...Now he looked so confused. So alone and so confused, almost as if he would cry. He was only a baby, after all. Just barely eighteen years old. He wasn't a big man like Leon or Dominic. He was just a boy, and he was hurting very badly. "Come on."

We sat side-by-side in lawn chairs facing the ocean.

"I'm gonna be real honest with you, Jackson," I said. "I still love you, but I don't think we could be together again. Ever. This has been a really crazy summer for me, and last night I was a total witch to you. I'm really sorry for rubbing everything in your face. Who I was last night was not me. But, Jackson, who I was for those three years that I was with you...that wasn't me either, you know? I don't know, but I think that who I am and who I want to be is somewhere in between. Somewhere between the mealy-mouth little snob I was with you and the crazy, shit-faced drunk I was last night. I'm still trying to figure out who I am. I'm not like you. I don't just _know_ who I am and who I want to be. I thought I did, but then this whole thing with Ashley came up and it's not necessarily bad that it did. It's making me think about a lot of things that I didn't think about before. And I'm trying new stuff and I'm being a little dangerous and it's fun, Jackson. Some of it hurts, but most of it is so damn fun. And it's only for the summer, you know? I'm not going to live in Mexico my whole life. I'm sorry about last night. Really I am. I was waaay fucked up. I just want to say sorry for last night and thank you for not fucking me."

Wow. Sentiment dump. Dom-style.

He nodded briefly and turned to meet my gaze, and his eyes were shining with tears.

"I love you, Izzie. I don't think that will ever change."

I didn't know what to say. I just reached out and squeezed his hand.

"This is all my fault," he said. "The clothes, the parties, that big guy climbing the wall last night...The drinking and the drugs...It's all my fault. If I'd have kept my dick in my pants, we'd have been together forever."

"You don't know that, Jackson," I said. "Nobody does. I think all it would have done is prolong it. We would have been together LONGer. Maybe we would have gotten married, and then, two years into a marriage, or five years, when we had good jobs and money and kids, I would do this. Sow my wild oats. Drink and do drugs and hang out with dangerous men. Would that have been better? To get that far and then watch it all fall apart?" He blinked, and I knew he could see my point.

"I'm gonna leave, Izzie," he said. "I was going to stay all summer, but I think I'm going to leave. I can't stay here and watch this."

I nodded. "I'll be all right, Jackson. You don't have to worry about me. I'm not going to destroy my life. You know me better than that."

He pressed his lips together and pulled his eyes off mine, staring down at the sand.

"Aren't you going to try to get me to stay?"

"No," I said softly. "I think you should go." I cleared my throat. "For my sake and your own, I want you to go."

So he left. My parents were crushed, but he left. And as the plane lifted off, my father turned to me and said,

"I hope you're happy."

I wasn't. I was very confused. And when we got back from the airport, I laid face-down on my bed and sobbed. It had been three days, and I'd heard nothing from Dominic, or Leon, or Letty, and I'd given Jackson a remorseless, million-mile push right out of my life. I was afraid that everything had been destroyed on all fronts, and that I would spend the rest of the summer alone. Or worse, with my parents.

I must have dozed off, because I woke to the phone ringing. And ringing. And ringing. The sun was just beginning to set, and the house was quiet. I hoped my parents were gone for the night, lifting the telephone to my ear and blinking blearily.

"Hello?"

"It's Letty. The boys are gone, and I'm bored. Getchass down here."

Letty was in sweatpants and had a bowl of popcorn and a beer, sprawled out on the couch, when I walked in.

"Hey," she grinned, and I smiled too. I'd been nervous, had thought that maybe she'd know somehow. That somehow I'd walk through the door, she'd take one look at me, and immediately know that her man's face had been between my thighs. But her smile was genuine and she was happily on her way to inebriation.

"Vince told me what Leon said to you at the party. He went about it in an asshole way, but his intentions are good. He loves you and he thinks he's no good for you. Poor bastard. He'll get his head out of his ass, though. I have faith in him."

"Where are they now?" I asked, sinking into an armchair.

"I was gonna get drunk," she said, "But then I decided to call you. So now I'm just gonna finish this beer and then I'm gonna make you a blonde."

I snorted.

"You're gonna what?"

"I got a kit. Earlier. I was lookin' at your highlights at the party and I think your hair would be great blonde."

"All of it?"

Letty looked at the box. "It's a chunking kit. So some would be blonde and some would be brown. But not stripes or anything. And I got auburn dye for mine. So it will be reddish-black."

"Letty. There's no such thing as reddish black."

"You read it." She tossed me both boxes, and I perused them briefly, shaking my head.

"I don't think it's a good idea. Either one of 'em."

"Aw, c'mon. Have a few beers."

So, a few beers later, I was all but blonde, and Letty's hair was reddish black. Very dark brown with a reddish hue. It made her eyes look huge and inky, her skin dark. She had an angry, exotic beauty that I was incredibly envious of.

I stood a long while in front of the mirror and looked at my hair and realized that I liked it. It wasn't a cheesy, bimbo blonde and it did look good with my eyes. I thought I had lost probably twenty pounds. I did not recognize myself. I was definitely not Jackson's Izzie anymore.

"Where did everyone go?" I asked again, walking back into the living room and sitting beside Letty.

"Out. Dom's not with the other three. He had to run...Somewhere. I don't know where. Oh. He had to run to see Torlone. Out to dinner with Torlone. And Vince and Mia and Leon went to dinner and then bars."

"And you stayed home?"

"I haven't been feeling so good," she said. "Been tired. And Dom doesn't want me within fifty yards of Torlone anyway. I'm a fucking embarassment, you know."

"Oh, that's right," I chuckled. "You cracked him so hard across the face."

She laughed with me.

"Asshole deserved it. What time is it?"

I looked at the clock.

"Twelve."

"Sonofabitch!" she exclaimed, and I jumped at the unexpected outburst. "He said he was gonna be home at ten. The fuck am I supposed to do NOW?"

I felt a stab of fear in the pit of my stomach. He was two hours late home from a date with the Mob. The fuck _were_ we supposed to do now?

We put a movie in and were quiet. Quite sobered by concern, we watched the stupid comedy flick. But Letty didn't stay quiet for long. She became pissy and agitated, drumming nail-less fingers on the arm of the couch.

"He is so dead when he gets home," she said, and I didn't doubt her for a second.

The movied ended and we started another. I heard Dom's voice in my mind: _You are so beautiful, Isabel._ My brain played wretched tricks on me. I had seen the movie "Casino." My head was fucking with me in a bad way.

Intermittent recollections of my Xtasy-enriched moments under Dom's ministrations freckled the morbid stretch of nightmarish horror-flick material my mind's eye was conjuring.

I saw him sitting at the bar in the lounge in Mexico City, his tie undone, drunk and exhausted. I saw him sitting in the sand at the beach in cargos and a black tee-shirt. I saw him squatting at the side of my bed, and then kneeling between my legs. I heard my shaking voice as I told him I loved him, and felt his arms around me as I cried.

"Where the fuck _is_ he?" Letty fumed. My sentiments exactly. As if on cue, the front door creaked open and he lumbered through. He glanced at me, and then at Letty, and laughed.

"Hi."

I gaped at him, and it took even Letty a moment to find her tongue.

"Where the fuck were you?" she demanded, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest.

Dom swallowed, struggling to sober under her glare.

"I was out with Torlone!"

Drunk within an inch of his life. He sounded like a kindergartener defending a Crayola masterpiece on the white carpeting.

"'I was out with Torlone,'" Letty mimicked, exaggeratedly. "Fuck that. You were supposed to be home at ten o' clock. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Dom lifted his wrist to just under his nose and squinted at his watch.

"Bout three, I think."

"About three. You don't say." Letty rose and crossed the room, standing directly before him. His lids were so heavy that his eyes were almost closed, and he scanned her battle stance lazily.

"Shit," he laughed in the face of her anger. "I'm gonna need a beer for this one."

"The _last_ fucking thing you need is a beer. The fuck were you DOing. You smell like a woman."

He flashed a cocky grin.

"'Least one of us does."

"Oh, you are SO not in a position to be making fun of me right now." She took a step closer, scrutinizing. "Your lips look a little rosy, Dom."

"Chapped," he said.

Letty raised an eyebrow. "Chapped?"

He nodded, sucking both of said lips into his mouth and releasing them with a comical 'pop'.

"Yup. Chapped."

"You are so full of shit sometimes it is unbelievable."

"Got something to say to me, Letty? Or you wanna just hit me and get it over with."

"What was her name, Dom?" Letty was unrelenting in her pursuit of the awful truth. I had to wonder why she wanted to know the particulars. I sure as hell didn't.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he sighed. "Can I get a beer please?"

"You need a beer like you need a bullet in the brain," Letty spat, and then paused, as if reconsidering the validity of that analogy. She shook her head. "Go sit down."

"I'm thirsty."

I loved the way his mouth formed the word 'thirsty,' and felt guilty in doing so.

Letty stalked to the kitchen, reached into the fridge, and pulled out a plastic bottled water. She held it up for his approval, and when he nodded, she wound up and fired it at him, full-hilt. The water hit him square in the gut and the air rushed out of him in a shocked hiss. He backpedaled to absorb the blow and lost his balance, landing on his ass with an impressive crash.

"You fuckin' bitch," he slurred, doubled over, and I rose to leave but couldn't, standing there frozen.

"You are drunk as shit," Letty said, coming to stand over him, and he chuckled.

"Yah."

"It's not funny. I thought you were dead."

Dom shook his head, struggling to his feet.

"No such luck."

"Nice, Dom."

"Can I get that beer now?"

"Why don't you get the fuck out, huh? Why don't you just get the fuck out. Go out and drink yourself to death, if that's what you wanna do. Then I don't have to watch it. I'm expecting company anyway."

"Oh, yeah?" He stepped toward her, and she retreated.

"Yeah."

"Who might that be?"

"Abe," she said. I was torn between letting Letty get her revenge and telling Dom that she was fucking with him. I sat cross-legged in the armchair and pretended to read the newspaper.

"Abe who?"

"Cortez," she said, flippantly defiant and foolishly fearless.

"Don't start." Dom waved a hand dismissively.

But she had started already. And showed no sign of stopping.

"You remember him, Dom. Big brown bruiser from the party? The one who had his hands on my ass?"

I watched Dom's whole frame harden, his face dark and stony.

"I told you I don't want him around here anymore."

"Yeah, well. I like him. And I need male companionship. I sure as shit ain' gettin' it from you."

"The FUCK is THAT supposed to mean?" His voice was so deep and so loud that it rumbled in my stomach, and I was a good ten feet away. I jumped, and felt like I was going to cry. I didn't like what Letty was doing to him. At all.

He cocked his head to one side and moved in, his nose nearly touching hers. But she never flinched, and her tone was cold and level as she spoke,

"It means that twice a month just ain't cutting it for me. And this shit," she indicated his present state of being, "Is getting so, so old."

He had his lips pressed together in a tight white line, breathing in short, fast blasts through his nose. He reminded me of a bull. And when he spoke, it was through clenched teeth.

"Twice a month?"

"You heard me."

He nodded shortly and staggered back out of her face, as if he didn't trust himself to be in close proximity.

"So you're gonna have Abe over. Let him pick up my slack. That the plan?"

Letty shrugged. "Why not."

"Oh, that's fucking lovely."

With a black fury, he stormed past her, into the guest room, and slammed the door behind him with an unnerving force.

Letty stood, fists clenched, nose flared, and stared at the closed door. A band of light appeared across the carpet, and shortly thereafter came a loud CRACK! and a frustrated, baritone roar:

"SonofaBITCH!"

Letty approached the door slowly and stood a moment with her ear to it.

"You all right in there?" There came no answer, so she repeated the question. "Shit, Dom, are you all right in there?"

Hesitantly she swung it open, and I craned my neck to see. Dom was sprawled across the floor, holding his face.

"You idiot," Letty sighed. "You split your lip? Let me see."

"I tripped on that fucking thing, hit my face on the bed."

"Let me see," she said.

He spoke softly, but his voice was deep and carried well.

"Shouldn't you be making hors d' ouvres or something? I mean, since you're going to be entertaining."

Letty stood up, wiping her hands on the seat of her pants. "You are such an asshole, you know that?"

Dom grunted his way into a sitting position.

"It's more than twice a month, you know, Letty."

"Who was it tonight? Did you know her name?"

"No," he said dumbly, then quickly added, "But I didn't fuck her, either."

"What a shame. Struck out, huh?"

"Ah, Jesus Christ. No I didn't 'strike out.' I told her I had a girl-"

"Who would be more than happy to finish the job, only it's boring fucking her, she's a little bit ghetto, and you're a man of cultured tastes all of a sudden."

The underwritten meaning of those words struck home immediately, and I looked up. Dom met my gaze for just an instant, then tore his eyes away. _Houston, we have a problem._

"Don't even start," he said, in a low, flat voice. "That's fuckin' cruel."  
><em>Mayday. Mayday.<em>

"It's true, isn't it? I was an innocent little virgin too once, Dom, only you changed that, and now you're sick of me."

He looked absolutely ill.

"I never said I was sick of you."

"Please. When it comes to me, you've got the sex drive of an 80-year-old woman."

Dom went at her then, taking her waist in his hands and lifting her to his eye level, pinning her to the wall with his pelvis, grabbing her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist. He gave a rough thrust upwards and glared down into her face. I had a painfully clear view.

"You wanna fuck, Let? Is that what this is about? You in heat, you fucking hellcat? Need to get laid?"

His words were wracked with anguish, and a broad grin broke out across her face, eyes flashing, unafraid. No fear in her anywhere. Only triumph. I realized with a shudder that this is what she'd wanted...to break him. Make him slave-like and humble. And she seemed to find his violence delicious even as he found it shameful and desperate.

"Hell yeah," she said, licking her full upper lip. "Let's go."

_Let's go is right._ I left, closing the front door softly behind me.


	24. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-five**

I couldn't sleep, sitting in the window seat in my room and staring out as the street became pale grey, then pinks and flames of oranges. The sun was rising, and everything was silent. My mind filled that silence with the hurtful words of a few hours prior. I felt guilty no more. I was not singlehandedly ripping them apart. And even if I were, I was doing them a favor.

I loved Letty, and I loved Dom. But I couldn't shake the way she'd pushed all his buttons, the way he'd struggled to fend off the verbal blows she hurled at him, the way she hadn't shut her goddamn mouth until he was forced into a blind rage. I loved Letty, and I loved Dom, but as a couple, I hated them.

No one was awake, except the odd maintenance man. I could hear the ocean, the calm lapping of the waves, and then another sound faded into my realm of awareness. A steady 'clap-clap-clap' of rubber soles on pavement, and shortly thereafter, Dom appeared in my line of vision, jogging, in baggy mesh shorts and a V-neck tee. He was sweating profusely and breathing hard, and he looked a little green around the gills.

"Hey," I called down softly. He stopped, confused, and glanced around. "Psssst." He looked up, shading his eyes from teh sun, and when he met my gaze, he smiled.

"Pssst yourself. What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. What are you doing sober?"

"Fight with Letty will do that to a guy. Any guy. And I'm not overly sober anyway." He grinned.

"So why can't you sleep then?"

"I don't, usually. Remember?"

"Hot already," I said, and he looked down at himself.

"I'm sweating like a pig."

He approached my house and gripped the fixtures on the drainage system, rattling them slightly and smiling up at me.

"I think you need a shower," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"I just had one. Just… twenty minutes ago."

"I think you need another one," I laughed. The long white cotton sundress doubling as a nightgown clung to my damp skin as I knelt on the windowseat and leaned out over the sill. He climbed slowly, never breaking my gaze, until he was just below me, and I could see the curves and contours of his lips. A shiver worked its way out of me as I was pummelled by a sweet remembrance of what that mouth had done to me.

"Good morning, Miss Isabel," he murmured, with a heavy-lidded smirk. "You look a bit sticky yourself. I'll be damned if you don't need a shower too, Blondie."

I laughed. His breath was sweet, spearmint. He must have _just_ brushed his teeth. And he still smelled of soap from his last shower.

"Gonna let me in?" he asked. "Or is there a toll to pay at this window?" God, the man could be so charming when he tried.

"Oh, yeah," I smiled. "It's gonna cost you."

"Name your price."

"Hmmmm," I contemplated this. "A kiss."

His answering smile was soft and serene as he gripped the windowsill, feet balancing precariously, and pressed his mouth to mine. His dark eyes were closed and his tongue was there but uninvasive. He was an entirely different man than he had been just three hours before.

I undressed him in my bathroom and feasted upon his naked form, the great gleaming caramel Adonis standing before me.

He outweighed me by about ninety pounds, and yet I was completely unafraid. I would go so far as to say I was _comfortable_ with his nudity. He was semi-hard, but as I undressed, he became rigid, and he was enormous. Absofuckinglutely huge. He stood, still and quiet, all nonchalant tolerance of my unabashed rape of his body with my eyes, until he urged gently,

"Turn on the water, Izzie."

We stepped into the massive marble tub, bathroom door locked, mainly against the event of my mother, and stood facing one another. I was a bit shaken at the sight of his erection, although I tried not to be the little pussy of a virgin that I undeniably was. He was a good deal bigger than Leon, and roughly twice the size of Jackson. The sheer logistics of making love to him were baffling.

He chuckled low in his throat, blinking beads of water from thick black lashes, and reached for my hand. I gave it to him, and he guided me closer.

"It's not going to bite you," he said softly, and I laughed. Bless him for making me laugh; I was so nervous. Then, soberly, with a touching sincerity and an endearing lack of inhibition, he said, "Just because we're both standing here naked and I'm hard doesn't mean we have to have sex. It's not painful for me. You don't have to _do_ anything about it. And I can put my shorts back on if you want."

I blushed a little and shook my head, pressing my body against his, my head on his chest. I could feel it pushing into my belly, thick, hot and hard, as the warm water ran over us, needles of blond light peppering our skin. He alternated between playing with my hair and a gentle massaging motion up and down my back.

I was feeling sleepy now, in his giant arms, and he was soft and harmless against my stomach. My legs were rubbery from exhaustion and I yawned. He kissed the top of my ear.

"Falling asleep standing up?"

I nodded with a drowsy smile and watched as he stepped back twelve inches or so, washing himself with a perfunctory proficiency. His hands slipped and splashed over the dips and curves of his beautiful bronze body, and then he got out and forced sticky limbs into the tee shirt and shorts.

"Come on," he said, offering me a steadying grip and handing me the dress, which was nearly transparent on my wet body. He lifted me then, arms wrapped around my waist, and he flopped us both down diagonally across the bed.

He lay propped on one elbow beside me, staring into my eyes, and I was still, on my back, holding handfuls of the front of his shirt and looking up into his face.

"The day Leon made you come," he began quietly, "In the Escalade, I wanted to be touching you so bad. I wanted it to be me."

I licked my lips and blinked up at him, furrowing my brow for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Finally I took a deep breath.

"You can be touching me now," I said, barely above a whisper. "Now it can be you."

"Right now?" he asked, and I felt gentle fingertips slipping up my thigh.

I nodded. "Right now."

Almost gingerly, he drew the thin fabric up along my legs and I looked down at his hand as he touched me, muted cocoa between my milky thighs. We were absolutely sun-soaked, our skin blanched and bathed in the pale yellow light. His fingers were gentle, massaging lightly, pressing, exploring, stroking, and soon the heavy throb between my legs was so powerful I could concentrate on nothing else. I let my eyes fall closed and he pillowed my head on his other arm, letting his cheek rest on the bed beside me. He was watching my reactions to his touch, but I was not self-conscious under his study. He brought me dangerously close several times, and several times retreated. My face felt hot, my mouth dry, everything between my legs warm and full and wet. I was approaching my release, drawing so near, and again, he desisted. I whimpered and turned my face into his chest, so aroused that I ached.

"Shhh," he whispered, against my forehead, and traced the entrance to my body with the tip of his index finger, a torturously slow circle, and then he dipped just the very tip inside of me. Involuntarily, I dropped one hand down and caught his.

"Never done this before?" he murmured, and I shook my head. "I can stop if you want, but it's not going to hurt."

"Okay," I said, moving my hand to grip his wrist, and he found my mouth, covering it with his own and catching me in an easy, soothing kiss as he pressed deep into my body. There was pressure, but not pain, and I loosened the white-knuckle hold I had on him. He pulled his finger back and eased forth again, and then withdrew from our kiss, tugging lightly on one of my turgid nipples through the cotton. My back arched, completely of it's own accord, as he kissed down my stomach, kissed the curve of my mons, and I moved both hands to his head. I bit down hard on my bottom lip as his tongue hit my clitoris, and drew a sharp, rapid breath as he pulled it into his mouth, his finger gliding gently in and out of me, and this time he did not deny me my orgasm but urged me into it, holding my hips steady and lapping at me as the brutal cascade pounded over me, waves beginning at his tongue and crashing up through my trembling, boneless body.

Like the time before, he acknowledged my vulnerability afterward and took me in his arms. He held me as the shaking stopped, as my breathing regulated. I felt my lids growing heavy, this time not from lust, and I nuzzled into his neck to fall asleep.

This time, though, when I woke, he was still there. And he was asleep, all the cockiness, the anguish, the responsibility gone from him. His mouth was slack and relaxed, no furrows in his toffee-colored brow, and his breaths came slow and easy. His head was on my chest, one arm draped across my belly.

I smiled fondly on him, remembering how he'd told me several times that he doesn't sleep. I didn't want to wake him, so I just laid and looked at him, completely still, floating on a surreal string of flashbacks. What had I done to deserve this? Such perfection, such beauty in a man? I remembered feeling this way the first time Jackson had kissed me. I had always been surprised when men found me attractive. Sure, I felt prettier now than ever before, but I still could not wrap my mind around Dom's inclination toward me. It was intoxicating. It was encouraging. It was very, very flattering. My heart jumped every time I looked at his mouth, and I could feel anew his lips tugging at my clit, the graceful movement of his hand, the gentle pressure in and out of me, the rough softness of his head beneath my hands.

I was buzzing, as if drunk, on that memory when he stirred and turned those deep chocolate eyes on me.

"I slept," he said, incredulous, and I nodded.

"You did."

"What time is it?"

I glanced at the clock across the room.

"Almost five."

"Holy shit. Eight hours."

I laughed at the wonder in his voice.

"That's not an outrageous amount of time. Average, actually."

"I bet it's been two years since I slept eight hours in a row," he told me, and laid his head back down on my chest.

"That's not healthy."

"Tell me about it."

"Have you been to a doctor?" I ran my fingertips lightly over his scalp, and he nodded.

"Hundreds of 'em."

"Will Letty know you were here all this time?"

"Not if I'm careful. She was gone when I left. Fought me, fucked me, fought me again, and fled. It's really getting bad."

"What's really getting bad."

"Our relationship. Me and Letty as a couple. It's bad. I'm done with it. I love her and I always will, but I'm gonna end it."

I drew my breath in sharply.

"Dom, I can't—"

"It's not about you, although this whole thing doesn't help. It's not about you. It's about me and Letty. I'm a shit to her and she's a bitch to me. She's no good for me and I'm no good for her. It used to be fucking awesome between us. That's why we held on for so long. But it's been pissy for years. She would never, ever end it, so I'm gonna. It makes my life hell and it's destroying her. She sees herself as part of me because we've been together since she was a kid. Me and my bullshit are all she's ever known, and she deserves to see the world through her own eyes. She deserves more than I can give her. I don't want to fuck her up anymore."

"She fucks you up too, Dom."

"Yeah." He nodded. "She fucks me up too." He lifted his head again and stared at me, and I took my face in his hands, kissing his mouth. He smiled against my lips and responded to my kiss with a gentle eagerness. Then he pulled back and studied me a moment, head cocked to one side.

"You're like a little angel or something," he said, "With your white skin and your white dress and your pink lips."

I blushed, but did not break his gaze. "An angel, huh?"

He nodded, shifting his weight so he could push my dress up again, and he cupped me in his hand a moment, eyes roaming my face and my neck, and he touched his lips to my collarbone as he began to stroke me almost absentmindedly. He shoved the skirt way up under my arms, baring my belly to him, and he rolled over onto me, settling between my legs, abandoning his assault there for a moment and taking one breast in each big, dark hand. He seemed almost mesmerized by the way my nipples rose for him, full and deep pink in the afternoon sunlight. I propped up on my elbows, pushing my chest toward his face, and he needed no further invitation. The hot suction of his mouth pulled forth a breathy cry from me, the motionless press of his waist between my thighs a torturous tease to the throb there. He licked the valley between my breasts before closing his lips over my other nipple, and my arms trembled, threatening to give out beneath me. Letting my head fall back and my mouth fall open, I felt the pinch of a gentle bite, a twinge as he tugged with his teeth and then released, moving to repeat on the other side. My breathing was sharp and sporadic, and after the moist satin of his mouth, his kneading fingers were deliciously rough, rolling the little blood-filled beads between them as he made a fiery trail down my belly with brief kisses.

I lifted my heavy head and watched his face become lost between my thighs, and when he hit the absolute root of my sensation with his hot, flattened tongue, I moaned and flopped back into the pillows, covering the hands at my breasts with my own.

In a matter of moments, I was spinning, numb and thrumming from the waist down. He rested his chin on my pubic bone, grinning up at me as I bobbed in the wake of the tidal wave he'd sent sweeping over me. I reached for him, and as he came to lie beside me in my arms, I felt his erection graze my thigh. I felt foolish, suddenly. Selfish. Three times, he had made me come, and I hadn't so much as touched him. I rolled onto my side and met his smiling eyes.

"Dom," I whispered, and glanced down at him. He followed my gaze.

"Oh. It's okay," he assured me quickly. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," I cut him off. "I mean, if you want me to… I want to."

He sobered and nodded, looking almost nervous.

"Okay," he said, and rolled onto his back, giving me easier access. He took my hand and slid it down his belly, under the elastic waistline of the shorts, until my fingertips bumped the smooth skin of his cock. I could scarcely breathe as he ran my hand down the length of it. The thing was a masterpiece. With my free hand, I pulled the shorts down, and he lifted his hips to help me. I rested my face on his lower belly and he smoothed my hair back off my forehead with a gentle hand, running his fingers over my curls.

As I touched him, he kept his breaths deep and even, kept still and let me explore him. I ran the tip of my finger around the ridge of his head, then bent and got him wet with my tongue, pulling back and blowing on the moistened flesh slowly. I could hear his heartbeat pick up, and stroked him hesitantly, up and down. He twitched in my hand and I eased him past my teeth, closing my mouth just around the head and sucking gently. He drew a long, shaky breath, and his hands stilled, one on my shoulder, one in my hair. I could fit half of him, at best, in my mouth, but he didn't push me, those powerful hips thrusting ever-so-slightly. His heart was racing now, and I picked up the pace. Even when he came, swallowing his way through his orgasm and trembling, silent, he didn't force my head down or pound his hips up.

I swallowed without so much as a second thought. It was all so calm and controlled, so easy and quiet. He hauled me up into his arms and held me against his glistening chest, still breathing hard, and he kissed the top of my head. I smiled and buried my face in him, deeply, deeply content. Head over heels. I listened to his heart, and felt his breathing slow, until it was level and shallow, and when I looked into his face again, he was sleeping. I laid still, knowing how much he needed the rest and not wanting to wake him.

At seven-thirty, though, the phone rang. I knew my parents were gone – the house was noiseless – and the phone would only keep ringing if I left it. Dom jolted awake as I eased myself out of his arms.

"Sleeping again," I murmured, and he smiled. I crossed the room and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Izzie. It's Letty. Let me talk to Dom."


	25. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-six**

I dropped the phone and stepped back away from it as if it had burned me. In that instant, everything I had done materialized and sat like a boulder in the pit of my stomach, and my hand went to cover my mouth. I felt like slime. The worst kind of slime. Letty's tired voice on the other end of that phone echoed in my mind and I couldn't shake it. I turned to Dom, and he shook his head slowly, raising a finger to his lips, indicating that I should be quiet. I backed up away from the phone until I could go no further, the backs of my thighs hitting my mattress, and then I sank down and just sat, watching as Dom went to the phone.

He was all cool confidence as he stooped to the floor and lifted the phone to his ear, and although I expected to hear bushwoman banshee screaming from across the room, there was nothing of the sort. Only quiet, monosyllabic responses from Dominic, lots of nodding, and he didn't look tense at all. When he hung up, he turned to me and shrugged.

"Viri's there. She wants us to go to the convenience store and get some ice and margarita mix and meet her there. Someone covered for us somehow. We're going to have to be careful we don't say anything about today. Don't make up a story or anything, because Vince or Leon has done that already. Just agree with whatever anyone says we were doing today."

I shook my head.

"I feel like such shit. I feel like I should tell Letty everything."

"Well, don't feel like that, because you shouldn't. Coming clean to Letty would make you feel better, not her. Sounds like they've got quite the party going over there. Have you met Bree and Maike?"

I just looked at him. His calmness was unnerving. His nonchalance. His apparent apathy was such a glaring and direct contradiction to my consuming, searing guilt that it made me angry. I folded my arms over my chest.

"I don't want to go there and party with Letty."

"I thought you were friends with Letty." He sat on the floor and put on his socks and tennis shoes, slow, deliberate, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Some friend I am."

"Izzie, we've been through this before. Get dressed, baby, we have to go. You know that if you don't go everything will be painfully obvious." The soothing nature of that rumbling baritone infuriated me, but what made me even more angry was the fact that Dominic was absolutely right.

I roared in frustration and anguish and stood, yanking the sundress up over my head and going to the closet for some nice hooker clothes. Black leather mini. White scoop-necked wifebeater. Thong. Thick socks, lug-soled boots. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom and watched me do my hair and put on my makeup, one great arm propped on the doorframe as he stared at me with that even black gaze. I didn't want to cry, but the tears were there, right behind my eyes, and I knew that if I turned and made eye contact with him, it would all be over. My hand was shaking as I put on my mascara and lipstick, and then he reached out to me and ran his fingertips down my bare arm, and I looked at him, my heart in my throat.

"It's all right, baby girl," he said, taking my face in his hands and kissing my lips softly. A few tears escaped my guard while I was distracted by his kiss, and they tumbled down my cheeks onto his hands. "It's all okay, Isabel." He covered my mouth with his once more, then stepped back. "Come on now, everything's okay." I let him take my hand and lead me out of the house, and we walked to the end of the street, where the cabana and the convenience store and the tourist-y shops were located. I stood and looked at magazines while he picked out what he needed, then watched with a forced boredom as he checked out. I didn't want even the convenience store cashier to think there was anything out of the ordinary between the two of us.

Dom hoisted the giant bag of ice under his arm and took the paper bag with the alcohol in his free hand. I relieved him of it as soon as we got outside, but this proved to be a grave mistake. He tore a small hole in the end of the ice bag and took out a handful of cubes, coming up behind me and slipping them under the neckline of my tank.

"Oh, you fucker!" I shouted, and an old woman sitting in a lawnchair gave me a disapproving glare. He stuck his hand back in the bag and reloaded, and I picked up my pace, shaking the ice cubes free of my shirt, my skin agonizingly cold and dripping. "Dominic, don't you dare," I pleaded, as he came at me again, and I broke into a run.

"I'm not chasing you," he called after me, and I laughed.

"Good!"

I reached their beach house a good block ahead of him and opened the front door, grinning. The breathless smile froze on my face as I found myself eye-to-eye with Leon, and my heart skipped.

"Hey, Izzie," he said, and his tone was flat and dull. There was no laughing sparkle in his beautiful green eyes, no smile on his mouth, no tease in that growly voice. He looked stressed and sad and painfully sober. He moved to brush past me, muttering, "I was just leaving."

I caught his arm, and he turned, looking down at me with a confused frown.

"No, stay," I said, my eyes following his hairline, his sweaty, dusty-blonde curls, sunbleached and damp, along his jawline to his goatee. I could still feel it, brushing my face. I traced his lips with my gaze, his nose, settling on his eyes again, that intense green. "Please. Stay."

He cleared his throat and pulled his arm away from me, sighing a little and nodding.

"All right." He took the bag from me. "This the margarita mix?"

"Yeah."

"I suppose I can get started on that. Where's Dom? He bringing the ice?"

"Yeah." I didn't know what else to say as I watched Leon go to the kitchen and pull the two bottles of red liquid from the brown paper bag. My eyes lingered on his hands, remembered him touching me, remembered him showing me what ecstasy was on the black leather seats of the Escalade, and then I remembered Dom's voice...  
><em>'I wished it was me...'<em>

It was all so fucked up.

"Everyone's in back, Izzie," Leon said, without looking at me, and I nodded slowly. All right, so he didn't want me near him. I was just standing there with my mouth hanging open like a fish and gaping at him anyway. Coaxing my legs into motion, I walked to the sliding doors and stared out for a moment before going any further.

Someone had erected a volleyball net, but no one was using it. Letty and Viri sat in the sand beneath it, Viri dressed almost exactly like me and Letty in a baggy tank and huge cargos and bare feet, looking cool and casual, her hair up in a ponytail. Vince was at the grill with two girls I didn't recognize, and I wondered if these were the girls Dom had mentioned at my place. Bree and...I couldn't remember the second girl's name. One of them was tall and voluptuous, the other very short and very cute and looking to be about twelve years old. Vince had their undivided attention, and he was feigning seriousness as he showed them the correct way to cook meat on the grill.

I slid back the door and laughed as Vince tried to show off and flipped a burger directly into the sand, and Letty and Viri looked up as I came out. Letty got to her feet and came over to me, and her smile broke my heart, but I forced a similar one onto my face as she opened her arms to me. I hugged her tightly and tugged her ponytail.

"What's up?" I asked, and she shrugged, standing back and surveying the small gaggle of people on the beach.

"Not a lot," she said. "Just chillin'. Just a few people here. Bree and Maike came with Viri, they're girls we knew in California when we lived there."

"Which is which?" I asked, and she smiled.

"Which witch is which, huh? The tall one is Bree. The little one is Maike. They're crazy. They're a lot of fun."

"What are the poor things doing over near Vince?"

"Get those three together and it's hopeless. They're like the Stooges or some shit. Did you bring the mix and ice?"

"I brought the mix. Dom's got the ice. I don't know if he's here yet or not."

"All right. Well, let's go sit."

I looked at her.

"Are you okay, Letty?"

"I'm just dog tired, Izzie," she said, and I nodded and was silent as we went to sit near Viri. Letty looked awful. Kind of sallow and dark circles under her eyes. But I remembered the kind of night she'd had, and didn't say anymore. I wondered if she'd managed to get any sleep that day or if she was running on fumes. From the looks of her, it was the latter.

I felt a little strange there with Viri, remembering kissing her, remembering kissing Letty...It all was dragged up and revisited in my mind as a result of Viri's presence. I wondered if I would find myself in that situation again, and I wondered, also, if that would be such a bad thing. I was grateful that Viri was such a chatterbox; I didn't have anything to say and didn't want to have to force pleasantries from my lips when inside I felt rotten and guilty and disgusting. Letty's mind seemed to be elsewhere, as well. She was distant and strange, deep in thought, staring across the water. Her smiles were quiet, and her razor wit was all but absent. So the two of us let Viri do the talking, and we all watched Vince flirt at the grill.

Leon came out with Dom and they set giant pitchers of margarita on the picnic table with glasses and a plate full of sliced limes and pineapples. Letty rose and went to Dom as he stood near the grill, joking around with Maike and Bree and picking on Vince for the hamburger in the sand. She wrapped her arms around Dom's waist and he didn't acknowledge her in the slightest. At that moment, still sitting in the sand beside Letty's friend, I could feel Viri's gaze on my face, burning into my skin, and my heart was pounding. I kept my eyes on the group at the grill, tried to present a perfect picture of innocence and nonchalance, but I knew Viri wasn't buying it. I knew that those big, streetsmart eyes saw right through me. And I wondered who...No, I was terrified, of who Viri would choose to tell about what she'd seen.

I stood and went to the grill with the rest of them. Leon came up from behind and put one arm around Bree and one around Maike, and Vince turned with mock sincerity and growled,

"Get your guido hands off my women."

"Hey," Bree said. "Enough with the Italian jokes. I don't wanna hear 'em, and you have no right to be making them. You're as guido as he is, if not more. And besides, he can put his hands wherever he wants."

I'm sure my head snapped up at breakneck speed. Surprised I didn't get whiplash. My first impulse was to slap her across the face. Slap that friendly smile right off her mouth. But then I realized that I had no right to slap this girl. Doing so would only make me look like a jackass. One minor detail I had overlooked-Leon _wasn't_ mine. Not anymore. I saw the shiteating grin on his face, the cocky self-satisfaction as he beamed at Vince, and I bit my tongue. My gaze shifted to Dom and I knew that, even though he was standing there indifferent to Letty's very existence, he wasn't mine either. A lukewarm breeze brushed over me, leaving goosebumps, and I felt tears prick in my eyes. Neither of them belonged to me, and I belonged to neither of them. The only viable alternative was Vince, and he, although funny and affectionate, was less than intelligent and smelled bad.

I wrapped my arms around myself and saw Dom's black eyes lock on Leon's green ones for a long, tense moment. Had they noticed my looking back and forth between them? Neither of them budged. Neither of them smiled or spoke. Only when Vince announced that the meat was ready did they look away.

We sat at the picnic table together, one big awkward family, of sorts. Dom said grace and glanced with a lazy nonchalance up the table at me. From the looks Viri was giving him, I'm surprised he didn't burst into flames, right there in his chair. Letty, who'd been in her own dazed little world up until that point, now became decidedly aware of what Viri was catching onto. I wanted to kick the shit out of Viri for stirring this up, for bringing it out in the open. It had all been going so well as a dirty little secret that everyone knew but would not speak, my sins safe from verbal scrutiny, but now it was as if I were sitting there naked. It was as if Viri had stood in my bedroom doorway and watched Dominic bury his face between my thighs.

When we cleared away dinner, Vince and Maike and Bree went to bat around a ball, stumbling around, moderately intoxicated and very, very loud. Leon watched at first, then joined them. I hated myself for hating him for having a good time.

_Yeah, Izzie_, I thought bitterly. _How dare he have fun without you?_

Dom finished his beer, then pried Letty away from him and peeled his shirt off.

"Oh, come on, Arnold," Vince laughed. "This isn't a nude beach."

Dom flung his shirt into his friend's face and looped an arm around the tiny Maike, grinning down at her wickedly.

"And ain't that a shame."

"Hey!" Letty scolded from the sidelines, but there was a hint of humor on her tired face. I sat on the table, my feet on the bench, and watched the tomfoolery mirthlessly. Just behind me sat Letty, chatting quietly with her friend Viri. And before me was Dom, bumping, setting and spiking. Six years. They'd been together six years, and in 48 hours when Viri left, it would all be over. I was, at the very least, partially responsible.

The sublime pleasure of the past twelve hours was completely absent from my mind, completely absent from me as a whole, and I felt filthy. Heartless. I didn't think I could do it again. Everytime I even _looked_ at Dom it was like twisting the knife. I remembered his face, his words, and the feel of his tongue on me, and I remembered Letty, grinning, hanging out the window and announcing my first orgasm to all of Mexico City. I remembered getting trashed with her and then going swimming, almost puking in the gutter. I remembered her tears in the kitchen, arms folded on her knees, her face buried, sobbing. I remembered her tension in the Viper, watching Dom with the little Mexican guy that night.

_He's gonna hit him..._

And her face as she lamented Life With Dom, _Aren't I enough?_

I felt my throat close in on me, my eyes filling with tears. I sniffed and wiped at them angrily and turned to see if Letty and Viri had noticed, but they were gone. They were gone, the boys were getting their asses whupped by Maike and Bree at volleyball, and I was sitting on the picnic table like some drugged, out-of-it spectator.

"Time to go home," I said softly to myself, and stood, a bit stiffly. I realized then that I must have been sitting there lost in thought longer than I knew, and I turned and went to the door, sliding it open. Dom was looking at me, I could feel his gaze on me, but I said nothing to acknowledge it, just went into the house. Barely past the kitchen counter, I heard voices, and stopped dead in my tracks. I could hear everything clear as a bell. They were in the bedroom around the corner, the guestroom off the living room. I didn't want to go to the front door, open and close it, and have them think that I'd been eavesdropping. But the only other alternative to that WAS eavesdropping. I sighed and leaned my back against the wall a few feet from the bedroom door, barely breathing.

"I knew this shit was going to happen." Viri's voice. "I fucking knew it. The minute I saw her, I knew. I knew it in Mexico City."

"I think I did too." Letty's voice. Tear-choked. I felt my own eyes threaten to overflow. "God, the real bitch of it is, she's my friend. I actually like her. I don't think they're doing anything, but shit."

"I think they are."

"Izzie wouldn't do that." Letty sounded so sure, and it was all I could do not to sink to the floor and sob. "But I know that he's interested as hell and she feels the same way. God, I think he even loves her. What the fuck do I do if he loves her? He'll leave me, Viri."

"Letty, you know what I feel about this. Let him leave you. Jesus Christ, good riddance! What does he do for you, except hurt you? Fuck around with your friends, go after little rich virgins right in front of your fucking face? Let him go. Give him a boot in the ass and TELL him to go."

"I can't."

"Why the fuck not?"

"I just can't," Letty was sobbing. It was strange to hear her sounding so weak and pathetic. I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt.

"WHY?" Viri demanded.

I moved my foot to one side and it hit the doorstop. An absurdly loud DONGGGGGGGG! echoed through the hallway and I cringed. Sonofabitch. Both of them went silent then, and I didn't make a sound. Then Letty broke the quiet, her voice thick with tears and shaky.

"Izzie?"

I said nothing.

"Izzie?" she repeated. "Is that you? Come here for a second."

There was no escape now. I stepped into their line of sight, into the doorway of the guest room where Viri would be staying. Letty looked at me with those huge black eyes, red from crying, sweaty strands of hair hanging in her face, and she wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. Viri ignored me completely as Letty gestured for me to come closer. Staring straight at Letty, Viri said, "Why can't you get rid of him."

Letty took my hand in hers and slipped it up underneath the hem of the baggy white tank. She pressed it flat to her stomach, which was hot and hard and pushing out at the waistband of the boxers and baggy cargos she wore. I drew a sharp breath and pulled my hand away, looking at her with my mouth hanging open. She met my gaze and read my expression.

"That's what I think it is, isn't it," she whispered, and I'd have given just about anything to be able to tell her 'No.'

I said nothing, put my hand back on her and pressed lightly, lifting the tank with the other hand and probing her belly with gentle fingertips.

"Four, maybe five months," I said, my mouth dry. The hard swell of her uterus ended right at about her navel. Four or five months. "You should get a test to make sure, though. Make sure it's not some other thing..."

I was numb, and the numbness lent professionalism to my shock.

Letty turned to Viri.

"That's why I can't get rid of him."

"Jesus," Viri choked, suddenly pale as a ghost. "I can't do this." She pushed past me, out the bedroom door, and almost slammed head-on into Dominic.

"Can't do what?" he asked, catching her by the upper arm.

"Let go of me, you fuckin' prick," she spat, and shook herself free of his grasp. He leaned one elbow against the doorframe, blocking our exit but still not a threat. He looked at Letty, his brow furrowed.

"What's up, Boo." His voice sounded soft and compassionate, and there were worried creases at the corners of his eyes. I stood between them and as I looked at him, I knew exactly what he would do. Take her in his arms, tell her it was all right, that he'd take care of her. No matter how bad it had gotten between them, he wouldn't end it. Not now. And not ever. That wasn't the kind of man he was. He was a Catholic man, he was a stand-up man, and he put himself and his desires last. Letty was pregnant. Dom would be a daddy to the baby and whatever Letty needed besides. What we'd done had been beautiful, but it was all over now. I'd run my course. I'd had my turn. And now she had something that I could never, in a million years, compete with. I felt awful for Dominic, knew that he could have found such happiness without her. I felt awful for Letty, knew that she could have been so much without him. And now they'd be Mami and Papi forever to that little bulge I'd just had my hand on.

"Come here, Dom," I said, my voice strained and tight in my lumped-up throat. He approached slowly, eyes locked on mine now. He didn't speak, thank God, because I knew what he was thinking, that I'd confessed to Letty, and saying anything to that nature would have made things even more fucked up than they already were, if you can believe that's possible. Fortunately, he was silent. I took his hand and enlightened him the same way Letty had just done me.

"Jesus," he hissed, and pulled back slightly, just as I had. "How long did you know this, Letty?"

"I thought I was just gaining a little weight, and it didn't really start getting big like that until the past few weeks...And then this morning I woke up and I was so sick and I tried to put on this skirt and..." Her voice cracked. "And I didn't get my period last month but that happens sometimes and then I'm late this month too and the months before that..." Her words were running all together and she was crying now. Dominic took her in his arms and held her, and rocked her slowly back and forth, kissed her face softly. "God, Dom, don't leave me."

"Sshhh, Mami. Of course I won't leave you. It's gonna be okay."

I just covered my mouth with my hand, my tears streaming unhindered down my cheeks. His tenderness baffled and infuriated and relieved and cut me. I was so fucked up inside, I didn't know what to do. For a moment I stood there and watched. Watched him hold her. Watched him tell her it would be all right, that he'd stay with her and take care of her, and I knew he meant every word, even though three hours before he'd told me it was all shit between them and he needed to end it, for both his sake and Letty's. Did a baby change that much? Watching the way he was with her, I decided that it probably did, and I turned and left, closing the door softly behind me. I leaned against it and cried noiselessly, picking at the hem of that slutty white shirt.

I went into the kitchen then and sat on one of the stools, still crying. I noticed Viri standing near the refrigerator, holding a bottle of tequila that was more than half empty. She looked at me, then crossed the room to stand beside me and offered me the bottle.

"Well, I guess that's that, huh," she said, as I took it and slugged off of it.

I didn't recognize my own voice when I spoke, all harse and crackly and tired. I sounded old.

"I guess so."

Viri slid the salt down the counter to me and she and I did shots, Dom and Letty in the bedroom. After a while, we abandoned the tequila and went into the living room, sitting, both of us lost in thought, both aching with a regret that was not our own. The tequila hit me like a ton of bricks and I fell asleep with my head on the arm of the couch.

When I woke, Viri was gone, and Dom was in her place. It was dark and quiet, and the clock on the VCR said it was three in the morning. I thought he was sleeping, but when I sat up, his eyes opened and he stood and stretched before me, quietly. He was none too steady on his feet, and I couldn't really blame him for having taken what little solace alcohol could offer in his situation. He went to the television and switched it off, and I watched him move, that effortless agility even in a state of inebriation. Watched the way his clothes were with his body, the way his skin was pale blue in the moonlight, and his eyes were inky black. He turned to face me, but found he could not look me in the eyes, and hung his head.

"I am so, so sorry."

I cleared my throat.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Dominic. There's no way you could have seen this coming."

"I have to do right by her now. There's a kid involved."

"I know that, Dominic."

"I'm going to marry her, set up a family. Do what my father did."

"I know."

"How do you know?" he asked, raising his head and searching my face.

"I know you, Dom," I replied, my voice trembling. "I knew the moment I put my hand on her belly, before you even came in, that whatever it is that you and I were messing with was over. You don't have to justify anything, you don't have to explain anything. I knew then and I know now that you have to give it everything or you won't be able to live with yourself."

He nodded, and I saw tears in his eyes. I stood and went to him and pulled his head down to me, planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He collapsed into me then, wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my shoulder. I held him, much as he'd held Letty, and swayed gently back and forth.

"You just make sure that you give it your all, and you stick to your guns," I whispered. "If you duck out halfway, it will kill her."

"I'm not going to duck out," he said, and I was touched, but not surprised, to hear that he was crying. "I'm all she has. You get that, right?"

"I get that, Dom," I murmured, kissing his cheek. "I get it all." I ran my hand back and forth across his head, letting him stand there against me and cry until all the aggrieved tension was gone from him, and he yawned. I made sure he was steady before stepping back away from him and touching his face, my eyes locked on his. "Thank you for yesterday, Dom. It was beautiful. You are beautiful. I'm going to go home now. You get some rest."

He nodded and turned away from me, crossing the living room and disappearing into the shadowy embrace of the hall. I heard his voice, then, from somewhere in the blackness.

"Izzie."

I paused on my way to the front door and looked back over my shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I know that shit is complicated, with you and Leon. He regrets what he did. If you decide to be with him again, for whatever reason, I'll understand."

I sighed. Just the thought of that whole situation made my head spin.

"Okay, Dom. Goodnight."

I left before he could say anything more, swinging open the front door and stepping out into the breezy relief of the Puerto Vallartan night. I wiped my tears and headed toward the street, but just before I reached the end of the driveway, I caught sight of a small orange flicker of fire coming toward me from the garage. I turned and stopped, squinting, trying to make out the shape in the dark. Another deeply familiar, gravelly voice split the silence.

"Can I walk you home?"

I knew immediately who it was, and again that exhausted voice came out of me.

"Sure, Leon. You can walk me home."


	26. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

It was strange, being so close to Leon and yet so far from him at the same time. We were silent as we walked home. I was only a handful of houses away from him, but it seemed as if we were crawling, as if we were there beneath the black stretch of Mexican sky forever, wordless wanderers, and yet my mind was so loud I was giving myself a headache.

It wasn't until we reached my driveway that he spoke.

"I don't know what to say," he said, sitting on the curb with his arms hanging between his knees. "But I know that I want to talk to you."

So I stood there and looked at him, clasping my hands at the small of my back and kicking a rock with the toe of my boot.

"You don't always have to know what to say, Leon. People don't always know what to say."

"Sometimes I feel like I should say I'm sorry to you. Like I overreacted and fucked everything up. And sometimes..." Leon scrubbed his curls roughly for a minute with his fingers. "Sometimes I feel like I was doing the right thing. Like I was absolutely right. Because even if you didn't do anything with Dom while you and me were together, I know you did shit after we broke up and I know I'm rambling but I'm gettin' to my point, slowly but surely." I couldn't help but smile. "Bottom line is this: In two months, neither of us is gonna have you. Me and Let and Mia and Spilner and Vince and Dom, we're all moving to Mexico City. I don't know if it's a good idea, but Dom does, and with everything except women, I trust Dom. So we're moving to La Ciudad. And you...You're going back to New York. Be a doctor. Do your thing." The quiet awe and pride in his voice as he detailed my future brought a lump to my throat. "So what I'm saying is, it's stupid to take all of this so serious. Stupid for me and Dom to fight over you when we're both gonna lose you in 32 days anyway. And now he's gonna be a daddy...And he's gonna marry her. Just the way he works. So I'm thinking...God, Izzie, let's just have fun while we can, you and me. Let's just...be. Just be and not expect anything out of each other, because that way we won't get let down. I'm droppin' the bullshit bravado and I'm telling you that I don't want to spend the next month without you."

I let everything he had just said sink down into my brain and take hold, and then sighed softly and sat beside him.

"You asking me to go out with you again, Leon?" I brought my eyes to the very vague outline of his face.

"Yeah, kinda," he said. "I'm saying let's have a blast while we can and fuck faithfulness and promises of forever because it's obvious neither of those things are going to happen."

I nodded, eyes filling with overwhelmed tears, and leaned forward, my mouth finding his instinctively for a brief, light kiss.

"All right," I said. "Just have fun while we can."

"Sounds good to me."

He sat wordless for a moment, staring off across the darkness, and I joined him in the silence until he broke it.

"Letty's going to be a mami," he said, barely above a whisper, voice soft with incredulity.

"Yes." I couldn't help but smile, despite everything that title would cost her, and Dominic. "Not too long from now, either."

I sensed, rather than saw, him look at me as he spoke again.

"The way she's been living...Hasn't been good for the baby, has it?"

"No," I sighed. "No, it hasn't. She needs to see a doctor. Soon."

Leon scoffed.

"Not gonna happen."

"I'm going to talk to her tomorrow, see what I can do."

He nodded at me in the blackness, and I could feel his eyes on my profile.

"You know you're the first real girl friend Letty's ever had besides Mia. She likes you. She has a good idea that shit's been going on between you and Dominic, but she still likes you."

"Yeah, well. I like her too. She's a trip."

"She is a trip and a half, but she's not all hardass and jokes. She has a sweet side, too, and I'm willing to bed that she is scared to death."

I glanced down at my hands, nodding at Leon's words. "I would be, too."

"All she has is Dominic. That's all. If he leaves her, she is all alone."

"But he won't leave her," I put in. "You even said: He'll marry her."

"Yeah, but a wedding ring is not a lobotomy. It's not a personality transplant." He cleared his throat, all gravelly against the harmonious whisper of the breeze. "I remember what Dom and Letty used to be. And compared to what they were then, what they are now is fucking pathetic. I just hope they can pull it together and drop the bullshit and be what they were. If they can do that, then that baby's gonna be the luckiest kid in the world, cuz they were awesome."

I drank in everything that Leon was telling me, and when he reached for my hand, I didn't pull away. I realized I was probably the only one who knew how close Dom had come to ending the whole thing, getting rid of Letty. And even as I sat there, stunned by the loss of Dominic (although he was never mine, to keep or to lose), I found myself hoping that they _could_ pull it together, make it good again, for the baby and for themselves.

I became fully aware of how exhausted I was only when my eyes began to drift shut, and then, with a reluctant grunt, I staggered to my feet.

"Heading in?" he asked, rising to my side, and I nodded.

"I'm falling asleep on the job, Leon. I need my bed. You going to be around tomorrow?"

"Yeah, 'course. I'll give you a call at around noon."

There was a fluttery, awkward pause, and he kissed me, timidly at first, then without reservation, and when he walked away, I felt weak and strange. Turning toward my house, some mechanical autopilot enabled my legs to carry me upstairs to my bed. I dropped down into the softness of it, sun-soaked, dry-throated, smelling Leon on my body and tasting him on my lips. The familiar confusion was back, fondness and friendship mixed and mingled with a quiet lust.  
><em>Welcome back, Leon. Let's see what happens this time...<em>

It was his twelve o' clock phone call which woke me, Leon's warm, growly voice.

"Morning, sunshine. How's your head?"

It was throbbing. It was pounding out a chaotic ruckus of a bass beat, rattling my skull, so intensely painful that I was nauseous. My reply to his inquiry was simple:

"God bless tequila."

Knowing my pain, he kept his laugh quiet.

"Take a shower and some aspirin and head on down. Beautiful day on the beach and everything's kind of quiet around here."

I sat up slowly and managed to stumble into my bathroom, shoving down the leather and lace so that I could pee.

"Viri still there?"

"Yeah, and Maike and Bree. I think those two slept in the sand. Hell, they're still sleepin'."

I wiped and flushed and put the plug in the giant bathtub, turning on the water and yawning loudly.

"Aright, boy. I'm gonna scrub and drug and be right there."

"See ya, Iz."

At the tone, I pitched the cordless back across the room onto my bed and began to strip down.

Dominic was in the kitchen when I arrived, standing at the stove with his eyes barely open. He turned to me and raised his eyebrows, and I gave him a gentle smile.

"Hey," I said, and a thought crossed my mind before I had the chance to silence it: _What's it feel like when your life is over?_

"Hey yourself," he responded, shoving the spatula around in a skilletful of scrambled eggs and tomatoes and onions and green peppers. My stomach lurched at the sight and scent of it. He wiped his hands on his jeans and turned off the stove, then looked at me again. "Talked to Leon."

"Yeah?" My heart jumped.

"Yeah." His face was so dark, so stormy, I wondered if he'd meant what he'd said the night before, about Leon. But when he spoke, I sighed, relieved. "Yeah, I did. And it's all right. I know you love me. But you love him, too, in...some way. Leon's my brother. Make him happy, if you want to."

"I do," I said, not taking my eyes off his face.

He nodded.

"He's in back."

I headed for the sliding glass doors, then turned to look at Dominic.

"How's Letty?" I asked, and he drew his head up slowly to face me again.

"She's quiet."

I nodded and stepped out into the soft pull of the dry sand. Quiet. Yeah. Overwhelmed, probably. Numb. Bewildered. She sat between Viri's legs, Viri's back against the house. Letty's hair was half in cornrows, half hanging black and loose and shiny, and Viri's hands moved deftly through it, braiding as she sang. I sat beside the two of them, unsure as to whether or not I was welcome. But as I sat, Letty reached over and took my hand, squeezing gently, and I knew that, at least for now, it was okay between me and Let.

Leon was right...Things were quiet. And Dominic was right...Letty was quiet. But it was kind of nice. Everyone just hanging out, listening to music, eating, and of course, drinking. I watched Letty and Viri do clapping games they'd known since they were little kids, their hands and feet and mouths moving a mile a minute in perfect synch.  
><em>"... I like coffee, I like tea. I like a black boy and he like me..."<em>

I couldn't help but laugh, and when Letty tried to teach me, it was hopeless. I was laughing so hard I thought I would be sick.

Pronouncing me 'hopeless' (a title I readily accepted), they tugged me back down into the sand with them. Viri began to run a brush through my tangled curls, ordering Maike to get her box of rubber bands from inside the house. As Viri brushed, she was silent, and Letty was, as well, sprawled in the sand beside us, dozing in and out. When Letty fell well and truly to sleep, Viri parted my hair and began to braid, speaking to me softly while she did so.

"You look really thin, Isabel."

I piled the sand between my legs, sculpting it into several loose mounds.

"Do I?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "You do."

"Thanks."

"That wasn't a compliment. Have you been eating?"

"Of course I've been eating." I turned to face her, pulling my own hair with the movement.

"You've lost a lot of weight," Viri said, and I sighed.

"I know, and I like it, but I didn't do it on purpose."

"Been living off Toretto's Own Liquid Diet?"

I laughed at her little quip and turned to face the sea again.

"Sometimes. I don't know. Just haven't been living the same kind of life I used to."

"Yeah, well, just don't forget that the same kind of life is what's waiting for you, whether you're the same or not."

It was 'Words of Wisdom Week' at the Toretto Estate, or so it seemed. I nodded, ingested her comment, and filed it, along with all the rest. Along with everything else I'd learned that crazy summer and the impatient hope with which I waited to see what that final month would teach me.

The breeze died somewhere close to suppertime and the boys and Viri sat down in a circle to a game of poker. I watched, side-by-side with Letty, Maike and Bree shrieking in the background, knee-deep in water and flinging wet sand at one another.

Letty reached over and tugged at a braid of mine, and I tugged one of hers in return, smiling softly. We hadn't said Word 1 about the baby, the pregnancy, or Dominic all day, but now, the rare gift of a reasonable facsimile of privacy granted, the opportunity had presented itself.

"Letty," I said quietly, and she looked at me, the liquid black of her eyes glowing orange in the heavy, late-afternoon sun. "You need to see a doctor."

I watched her features harden as she turned her face away from me, but I didn't pull my eyes from her. I waited, kept my gaze on her.

"I know." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and I felt the warm rush of relief flood my body. "I know I do."

"I'll go with you," I offered, pulling at my bootlaces, which had come undone. "I'll help you find someone nice, and we can go together."

She made eye contact with me again and smiled a little.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure, I'll do that. On Monday, okay? And you know what? You don't have to go to the hospital to have your baby. If everything looks okay, you can have that baby right in your own bed at home. I'm sure Dom can find a midwife."

"That would be so cool. I can go to a doctor, you know, but I don't think I could do a hospital. Not even for this." She shook her head and looked down at her right hand, resting over her belly, and when she spoke, her voice was shaking. "If this baby is fucked up because I was stupid, I will never forgive myself."

"Shh, don't talk like that, Letty. You never know what's gonna happen. You can go your whole pregnancy and not touch a drop of liquor or smoke a single cigarette, and your baby can still have problems. And I've seen women at the shelter who've been using needles and everything else have babies and everything turns out just fine. It's...It's not good that you drank so much and that you're so far along and haven't seen a doctor. But it's not a doom and gloom death sentence, either."

"Dominic and I prayed together last night," she said, still scarcely audible, and my heart contracted at the image that conjured in my mind's eye. "He's scared, too. And God, I thought he would leave me, but...Shit, you saw him." She was not sobbing or making any sound to betray the fact that she was crying, but tears glittered on the caramel brown of her cheeks, and I swallowed hard.

"Yeah, I saw him. He loves you so much, Letty."

"You think..." She looked up at me. "Izzie, do you think he'll stick it out?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, Letty, I do. I think he will. He thinks he will. And Leon thinks he will."

"Leon told you that?"

"Yeah, he did." I smiled. "And I think he's right. It's gonna be hard, on everybody, but you'll be all right. I mean, you've been through a lot of shit with him already, right? If you guys have lasted six years, Let...This is just going to be one more thing. And it's gonna be all right."

Letty smiled and wrestled me into a hug, and then both of us looked over at the sound of some very colorful language from the poker circle. I released her as Leon stood up with a frustrated growl and shrugged, smiling crookedly at me.

"I'm out. You wanna get something to eat?"

I really wasn't hungry, and I didn't want Letty to be there alone, but I caught the look Viri was giving me, and Letty nudged me and said,

"Go on."

So I went. I climbed into the passenger seat of the Skyline and as soon as he turned the key in the ignition, a throb of rap charged out at us. He hit the 'power' button and it went silent, and he smiled over at me. In the setting sun, his eyes were stunning. Pale, pale green, almost golden, and I couldn't help but lean over and brush my mouth against his.

"Where we going?"

"I don't know. You feel like going in to sit down and eat or you wanna hit a drive-thru?"

I shook my head.

"Doesn't even matter."

He grinned a few minutes later as he pulled into a McDonald's, and I laughed,

"See? This works."

I watched him as he ordered the food, getting back that fond warmth, that easygoing familiarity that I had cherished in him the last time we'd been together. The easy way that he moved, the friendly way that he spoke, the low, laughing voice, the tattoo on his shoulder...I wanted to lean over and brush my lips against it. When he pulled up to the next window and got the food, I took the wheel and turned the car into a parking space. He looked at me in wordless questioning and when I nodded, he tossed the bag into the back and took me into his arms, holding me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed, burying my face in him.

"This feels so good, Izzie," he said, his mouth close to my ear, and I nodded, lifting my face to his and inviting his kiss. He needed no further invitation, reacquainting himself with my mouth, deepening the kiss, running his hands down my back to rest at my waist, and I had to agree with him. It felt good. No pressure. No nervousness. Just Leon. Just like before. It was almost as if the whole interlude with Dominic had never happened, as if it had been Leon and me the entire time, no interruptions. But I knew intrinsically that what had happened between myself and Dominic was still a part of me, my sexual being, and always would be.

I yielded myself to Leon in the car, let him touch me, let him run his hands and mouth over my body, and I touched him, as well, going further and further with him until both of us had to come, and then I sat with him in a sublime sort of stunned silence, humming from the waist down, the taste of him filling my mouth, and we corrected our clothing, quietly, and drove back to the beach house. I held the McDonald's bag and picked at the French fries, the heels of my boots on the edge of the seat, knees on the dashboard.

When we got back out into the sand, I sat down and took my boots and my socks off. I caught my reflection in the glass door and had to laugh. Me in cornrows was quite a sight, and Viri was right...I was much thinner. But I felt calm, easy. Leon came out and stood next to Dominic, who was leaning back against the house with a beer in his hand and one arm around Letty.

"Who is that kid?" I asked, indicating a boy, maybe two years younger than me, talking to Maike near the volleyball net. Leon and Dom followed my line of vision.

"Beats the hell out of me," Dom said, in his low, growly voice. "Maike picked him up serving tacos at the concession stand."

Leon laughed and called out to him.

"Hey, Taco Boy. Want a beer?"

I grinned, stretching out on my stomach on the beach and blinking slowly. The sun had been merciless, and my skin looked darker for the hours I'd spent in it, my body feeling achy and tired.. I watched as my breaths created small divets in the sand near my face, stared across the pale, peachy stretch of sand to the ocean. The sunlight was all but nonexistant now, and I could barely make out the silhouettes of Vince and Bree against the water, glittering crystalline drops flying up from their fingertips, gleaming in the last of the light. I watched them dick around, the lapping of the waves washing out the conversation between Leon, Dom, and Letty, and I did what Letty had done earlier, dozing in and out, sleeping lightly, then jolting awake, then falling asleep altogether.

When I woke, it was utterly, completely dark. Someone had made a fire in the sand, and it lit the beach in a warm, dim glow. All I could see was Bree and Vince, about fifteen feet from me, and at first, through the sleep-bleary eyes that would not focus, I thought that they were just rough-housing, messing around, because she was on top of him, straddling him, smiling down into his face. But then, as I blinked and my vision cleared, I saw that his pants were around his knees, and her pants were...Well, I didn't know where her pants were. Still don't. His hands were on her hips and he was guiding her, rocking them slowly, and I just smiled and shook my head, turning my face the other way, and Leon came up behind me just then, easing his weight down on top of me, his body covering me like a warm, dry blanket. He kissed the side of my face softly and laced his fingers through mine, pinning my hands down into the sand. He spoke quietly against my ear as I stared, hearing only him and seeing the fire, Maike and Taco Boy making out, Letty and Dom sleeping together on a blanket, Viri with a guitar.

"Beautiful night for a swim, don't you think?"

I grinned and rolled him off of me, standing and running toward the water. He ran alongside me, none too steady on legs that were surely feeling no pain, shedding clothes as he went. I stopped at the water's edge and stripped down to a thong, diving in, mouth open and screaming noiselessly at the shock of the water on my bare, sunbaked skin. He found me in the water, his skin warm and wet and rubbery against mine, and we laughed into each other's mouths, stumbling, falling, kissing, splashing. He tasted like tequila and sun and wind and salt, and he held so tight to me it almost hurt. I felt bad for hurting him the first time and good for giving myself to him again.

We wrestled and kissed and touched each other until we couldn't anymore, water-logged and exhausted, dragging ourselves back up onto the beach with our feet still in the ocean. I pulled on my sticky, sandy clothes, waiting for him to grunt and struggle his way into boxers, then thunked my head down on his chest, gasping and holding onto him. Behind us, I could hear the inebriated laughter of Vince and Bree as they somehow managed to get to their feet, and then couldn't help but crack up at Vince's indignant remark,

"Jesus. I got sand in cracks I didn't even know I had."


	27. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-eight**

I took Letty to a women-only, no-questions-asked type clinic on the following Tuesday morning. Bree and Maike and Viri were gone, gone back where they'd come from, and the boys were in Mexico City on business with the Torlones.

I think if Letty could have climbed into my pocket to hide, she would have. She was visibly shaking as we sat in the parking lot. I tried not to stare at her, and I didn't rush her along, just waited for her to work up the gumption to go inside.

"I hate this," she said, for the fortieth time.

"I know, Let."

"I don't want some WWF-lookin' bulldyke seein' me naked."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"I know."

"And that thing. That fucking torture device they stick in you and crank open so they can look at everything. I don't want that."

"Speculum," I said softly, tugging my bubble gum out of my mouth, wrapping it around my forefinger, and then scraping it back off with my teeth. She shuddered. There was a long silence, and then a heavy sigh, and she opened the driver's side door and climbed out. I went with her into the waiting room, up to the registration desk. When I tried to sit down before Letty had finished giving her information, she gripped my wrist, white-knuckled, and held me at her side.

I was glad that we didn't have to sit and wait long before they called her name, because it was obvious that she was dreading it more and more by the second. Letty hesitated a long moment before she succeeded in forcing herself to rise and follow the nurse, who, for the record, was not a WWF-lookin' bulldyke.

I read magazines while Let was being seen. Flipped through parenting and interior decorating articles, recipes for the perfect sack-lunch dessert, coupons for pediatric acetaminophen and electrolyte-restoring juice, and it dawned on me gradually that Letty as I knew her would be soon gone from this world. The wild, raucous, crude, fun-loving hellcat would be no more once that baby was born. She'd have a kid on her hip, be sleep-deprived and sensible. And if she wasn't changed…if she remained the same, then…Dominic…

I shook my head to clear it and closed my eyes. I think I may have dozed off, because I didn't open my eyes again until I heard the soft complaint of the waiting room door squeaking open. I looked up and smiled at Letty as she emerged. She scowled in response, thrusting two handfuls of literature at me and growling as she struggled to buckle her belt,

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

I leafed through the pamphlets and brochures she'd been given while she drove, the summer air screaming in through the half-open windows, a lukewarm breeze on my face and in the parts of my plaits.

"Nineteen weeks," she said. "Nineteen weeks pregnant. This thing has been inside of me for nineteen weeks and I didn't even know it. I mean, there were times when I thought mayyybe, but, Jesus Christ."

"What did they say?"

"Not a hell of a lot. They shot this jelly shit on my belly and looked at the kid on a computer. Said it looks like a boy."

"You had an ultrasound?"

"Yeah."

"Was it cool?"

"It was all right. Kid looked like an alien."

I looked at her. The blue beads at the ends of her braids were nearly blinding in their brilliance, the sky-blue wifebeater pale against the sunkissed brown of her skin. The little swell of her belly pooched over the black belt that kept Dom's khakis hanging on her hips.

"They say everything looked all right, Letty?" I asked, and she looked at me and nodded, running her tongue over her top lip.

"They asked me all kindsa questions, like if I did drugs and all that shit, and I told them the truth. They said they wanted to watch and make sure, but they said they didn't see anything bad on the computer. They said they'd look closer and get back to me. And all that shit. But the kid had two arms and two legs and one head and what they thought was a cock, so at least he's not a mutant or anything."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Good news, Let. That's good news."

She was quiet a long while, just staring out, giant black eyes squinted against the blatant invasion of the sun. Her car smelled faintly of warm leather and fading nicotine, and I sighed, leaning my cheek against the window frame and closing my eyes.

"Thanks for makin' me go, Iz," Letty said, and I smiled softly.

"No one can make you do anything, Letty."

She chuckled.

"Fine. Then thanks for coming with me."

"Not a problem. What's going on tonight? The boys going to be back?"

"Yeah, Dom said around nine-thirty or ten."

I nodded and muttered, "Good. Peace and quiet then."

She grinned over at me, a gleam of mischief in her eye.

"Yeah right."

It was Dominic who woke me up, shook my shoulders gently, and when I opened my eyes, the overhead light sent sharp shards straight through my eyeballs to the back of my skull. I cried out and screwed my eyes shut against the throbbing headache that ensued, hearing Dominic's throaty chuckle over the chaotic ruckus of blood banging around in my brain, and then, slowly, managed to open my eyes again. I was still drunk, seeing double, lying on top of the kitchen table with my legs hanging off the edge.

"Why, Madame Isabel," Dom rumbled. "I do believe you are quite wrecked."

Leon came over from across the living room and stood beside Dom, and they both folded their arms over their chests, in perfect unison, staring down their noses at me. I groaned and rolled over onto my side, pulling my knees to my chest.

Someone had turned the Santana off and it was now replaced by some soft sort of Baja, gentle guitars, a low voice, the words in English but sounding so purely Mexican, like wind and waves and sunshine and…

I lurched off the table onto unsteady legs, breaking through the wall of Dominic and Leon and making a beeline for the bathroom, falling to my knees and heaving the sour contents of my stomach into the toilet. Leon stopped laughing long enough to come and stand beside me, hold my hair and rub my back while I puked, and when I was done, I shuddered at the rancid taste in my mouth and hauled myself to my feet with the help of the sink counter, gargling with cold water and sighing heavily, leaning over and resting my forehead against the smooth cool of the mirror.

"Where's Letty?" I muttered, and Leon kissed the back of my shoulder, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

"Crashed out on the couch."

"She wasn't drinking," I vouched, and Leon nodded.

"I know. Dom smelled her breath." He grinned at me, and I grinned back, turning around to face him, leaning my ass against the counter so that I could remain standing. "So we know Letty wasn't drinking. But we want to know how you ended up on the table." He laughed, and I shook my head, looking down at the patch of golden chest exposed by his black v-neck. "Were you havin' a one-woman party, Izzie?"

"Nah, we had some music on, and we were dancing…"

"That would explain the mass destruction. Have you seen that living room?"

I went to wipe my hands on my jeans and the cold water on my fingertips met with my bare thighs. I jumped.

"Shit, where are my pants?"

Leon was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. I slapped him, but couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. He chuckled then, his laughter winding down as he led me out into the hallway. I could hear, faintly, over the loud tranquility of the music, Dominic dicking around in the kitchen. Leon pulled my body up close to his and wound his arms around me, so that every inch of us was touching. He swayed me gently back and forth to the soft serenade of a huge old jazz guitar, and I closed my eyes at the sensual complaint of rolling thunder above us. A warm tropical wind rushed in through the open windows and bathed my bare skin in the scent of sea and storm.

Leon drew me toward the wall so that Dom could pass, Letty's slender, sleeping body draped seemingly weightlessly over his massive arms. He gave me a flat sort of half-smile as he went by and I looked away, my blurred, bleary vision worsening at the sudden presence of tears. He was so gentle with her, so perfect, and had been since he'd found out.

A wicked, selfish part of me hoped he would regress, that she would push his buttons and he'd become roaring mad and leave her in the wake of the fight. But most of me was just hurting, knowing that what should have been ended months ago now would never gain closure, because Dominic was going to be the Catholic boy he was and 'do right by her.' Most of me just missed him, ached for the feel and sound and sight of him in my bed, even as I stood there in the arms of Leon, whom I also loved. And all of me, both parts, selfish and selfless, were very confused.

Giving me a gentle squeeze, Leon whispered, "Want to go upstairs?"

I nodded and allowed myself to be led up the steps and lain down on rumpled sheets. The curtains were standing at nearly ninety-degree angles to the windows from the angry blasting blow of the storm, and in flashes of lightning, we could see the sea, white-capped waves assaulting the bland, bone-white stretch of sand.

The room was spinning as my head hit the pillow, my body booze-warm and willing. I smiled the entire time, feeling comfortable and casual as I hadn't felt in a long while. No strings attached. Just for fun. All we had to do was feel good. No great expectations. No vows of unwavering fidelity, no thought given to past or future. Between Leon and I, there was only right now. And with my decent buzz, bathed by the violent lapping tongue of the tempest, arching under Leon's practiced hands, 'right now' was pretty goddamned satisfactory.

I woke somewhere near noon the next day, lying there a long while with my eyes closed. I could hear breathing beside me, and rolled over to throw my arm across Leon. But the body my arm found was much narrower than Leon's was, and when I opened my eyes, it was Letty's gaze I met.

She laughed and shoved my arm back toward my own body.

"Going to sleep all day?"

I groaned. "Maybe. Where are the boys?"

"They're gone again. Couple of days. Going over paperwork with the Torlones. Whatever that means. Dominic says he's going to be gone almost every day all day until we move at the end of the summer."

Hugging my pillow to my belly, I studied her face. "That piss you off?"

She shrugged.

"Not really. I'm not real happy that he's gonna be gone all the time, but it's probably the best thing for us. Like, each of us has to deal with what this kid's gonna mean to us, as separate people. We have to deal with what it means to us ourselves. So this gives us time to do that, and then at the end of the summer we'll be able to come together and deal with what it means to us as a couple."

I nodded and locked my gaze on hers.

"And what _does_ it mean to you, Letty? As a separate person, I mean."

Letty closed her eyes and rubbed the corner of the pillow I held between the tips of her thumb and forefinger.

"It means I'll probably get to be with Dominic forever."

I cleared my throat, "Is that what you really want, Letty?"

"Hell yes, that's what I really want. That's _all_ I really want. That's all I've ever really wanted, since I was ten years old."

"All right," I sighed softly, turning the question around. "And what does it mean to Dominic, as a separate person?"

Letty stopped the gentle movement of her fingers on the pillow and instead clenched the cotton corner in a white-knuckled fist.

"It means…" She paused, licking her upper lip. "It means Dominic will probably be stuck with me forever."

The desperate element of truth in her words sliced me deep, and I drew a surprisingly ragged breath, forcing levelness into my tone.

"You don't think this is all he's really wanted? A reason…No, a _chance_ to make it better between the two of you? Make it what it used to be?"

"Izzie, he was going to leave me before he knew about this baby. I know he was."

I hesitated a moment before I spoke, choosing my words carefully,

"Maybe he didn't know what to do in order to make things what they were before. Maybe he didn't think he could do it, but he thinks he can do this. Maybe he didn't know how to do it before, but now it's all clear to him."

Giant ebony eyes opened and met mine, and I watched as the deep black pools glazed over, her face breaking into a watery smile.

"You're the best friend I ever had, Iz," she said, voice choked with restrained tears. She came toward me for a hug, and I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing my eyes shut as they welled up with tears of my own.

"No I'm not, Letty," I whispered, feeling absolutely saturated in guilt.

"Yeah," she insisted, with a heavy certainty and a knowledge I had hoped she didn't have. "Yeah, Isabel, you are."

"Think I'm too fat for this?" I held up a white bikini, not unlike the one Letty'd been wearing when I first met her. She made a face.

"Have you seen yourself lately? You're not too fat for anything. Me, on the other hand…" Letty laughed and turned sideways, yanking up the wifebeater and staring at her profile in the full-length mirror in the dressing room of some touristy shop on the beach in Puerto Vallarta.

"Please," I grinned, rubbing her tummy. "You can barely even tell you're pregnant. If I didn't know you, I would never guess."

"Yeah, well, my bikini days are over." She pulled a teal tee down over her head and dropped her baggy dips, stepping out of them and kicking them aside, standing in the tee shirt and a black thong. "Hand me those jeans?" I gave her the pants she'd pointed at and peeled my clothes off, tugging on the bikini over my underwear and looking in the mirror.

My body had strange tan-lines from the varying degrees to which I'd exposed myself that summer, but Letty and Viri were right…I was pretty damned thin. Like before The Body had made its appearance. I pinched about an inch of skin on my belly and wrinkled my nose, turning to the side. My arms looked big, and I still wasn't satisfied with my thighs.

"I don't know, Letty…"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. Get the damn suit." She buttoned the jeans, and they hung on her hips, an inch-wide strip of skin and thong showing all the way around. The blue of the shirt matched her beads and made her complexion look dark and exotic, which, I suppose, it was. Even almost five months pregnant, Letty was thinner than I was. She looked at herself a moment, then turned to me. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, what do you think?" She gestured to her outfit.

"I like it."

"It's kind of ghetto, but I'd rather be ghetto than wear maternity clothes."

"You don't want a big pink muumuu that says "Baby" with an arrow pointing at your belly?"

"Fuck you, Izzie," she said, and couldn't help but laugh. "I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat."

Letty chose a little place in the strip of tourist shops called La Flor. It looked a bit ritzy for the way we were dressed, but when I brought it up with Letty, she just said,

"Ah, fuck that."

So we went inside. The place was dimly lit and air conditioned, and for both of those things, I was grateful. The sun outside had been merciless for days. My eyes and my skin were exhausted by it, and the breeze of the AC against my bare arms was heavenly. The other customers in the restaurant, however, were dressed in eveningwear, floor-length sundresses, crisp white dress shirts and pleated black pants. Some were even in gowns and suitjackets.

Letty, however, seemed completely undaunted by the situation. She strode into the reception area and stood before the hostess's little podium, and I had no other choice but to follow her. Hanging at her elbow, we waited patiently while the woman finished up a cell-phone call, and when the hostess said goodbye to the other party, I stood in disbelief as we were completely ignored. The woman acknowledged a middle-aged, obviously wealthy couple that had come in a few minutes behind us, looking right through Letty and me and beaming at the other people.

"Hey, I think they came in after us," Letty objected, as the hostess began to escort the other people into the dining area. There was no possible way the woman didn't hear her. We were being blatantly disregarded. "Excuse me," Let said, a little bit louder, not bothering to disguise the annoyance in her tone. Let looked at me as the hostess stood and made polite chatter with the richy couple as they got settled in their booth, gave me this look like, 'Did you just see that?' I wasn't sure what Letty would do, but I knew sure as shit that she wouldn't just stand there with her mouth open, the way I was.

She didn't disappoint. Letty cleared her throat, took a few steps forward into the dining area, and took hold of the bottom of her new blue shirt.

_"Hey,"_ she said, not shouting, but damn nearly at the top of her lungs. She yanked the hemline of the tee clear up to her throat, and I knew from trying on clothes with her that there was nothing under that shirt but tits. I half-coughed, half-laughed as a communal shocked silence spread through the clientele. The hostess gaped in horror at Letty's exposed assets, then whispered an 'Excuse me' to the loaded couple and hurried toward Let, who lowered her shirt and grinned, "Yeah. Not looking through me now, are ya? See me now, don't you."

"Jesus, Letty," I choked.

Letty's eyes never wavered from the hostess, whose face was brilliant, bright red.

"Seems you gotta commit murder to get a little attention around here. Now I want a table for two. Immediately." Her voice was cold as steel, and the playful smile was gone from her lips. It looked like the woman didn't know whether to wait on Letty or escort her from the premises.

She stood frozen in the stare-down with Let until one wealthy man, about 50 years old and devilishly handsome with pale blonde hair and gleaming blue eyes, spoke up from his table, where he was dining alone,

"Better get them a place to sit. As much as I'd like to find out what she'd do if you ignored her further, I doubt it'd be much good for publicity."

The man must have been someone of considerable influence, because several of the people at surrounding tables laughed at his quip, with a mixture of forced and genuine good-naturedness.

"Come…" the hostess swallowed hard, "Come with me."

Letty ordered one virgin margarita and one regular, and when the waitress put them down in front of us, Let switched them.

"I want the tenderloin," Letty said, "Well-done. Baked potato, garden salad, Italian dressing on the side. And I want the Death By Chocolate parfait and the French silk pie. And chips and salsa. The hottest salsa you have." The waitress was trying to keep a straight face as Letty ordered all that food, but I didn't bother, grinning broadly. When she looked at me, I just shook my head and held up my margarita.

"I'm good with this."

As the waitress walked away, I took another sweet, icy drink, and without warning my mind recalled the image of that poor hostess's face when Letty had flashed the entire restaurant. I couldn't help but laugh, spraying margarita out of both my mouth and my nose, and Letty jerked out of the way of the shower just in time. She looked at me with one well-plucked eyebrow raised comically.

"Girl, have you lost your mind?" she asked, and I was laughing too hard to respond right away. I folded my arms on the table before me and dropped my head down onto them, out of control. Finally I gasped a breath and answered her.

"Look who's talking."

Letty and I spent most of the days we had alone on the beach, reading filthy sex-tip articles in Cosmo, painting each other's nails, lounging and napping. I tanned darker than I'd ever been in my life, and Letty was damned near cocoa before long. One night when everyone was getting dressed to go out, Letty came out of the bathroom wearing camel-colored knee-high boots and brown underwear and a brown bra. Dominic laughed and told her she looked like a Fudgesicle.

Dom's attentiveness to her, the drastic change in their relationship, astonished me. He never went out when he was in Puerto Vallarta. I hadn't heard him raise his voice to her since he'd found out about the pregnancy. He spent hours just locked in the bedroom with her. In fact, when the boys were home, Letty and I saw very little of one another. When they were gone, we were inseparable.

There were long periods of silence between the two of us. Letty and myself. I don't know what she was thinking of, but most of the time, I was thinking about Dominic. I was remembering the way he'd made me feel, and I would get this sick, cold knot at the base of my stomach when I allowed myself to acknowledge the fact that, after this summer, I would never see Dom again.

Although I'd shared so much with Leon, and knew him almost as intimately as I did Dominic, I somehow knew that I could live without him. That my life would not end in his absence. I wondered, too, at the power Dominic had over me. What was it about him that made me love him so deeply? What was this spell he'd put me under? Was it his intensity? His physical beauty? His dark intelligence, his underlying vulnerability? The forbidden nature of our few brief trysts? I always circled back to the conclusion that it was the chaotic combination of the aforementioned which made Dominic Toretto so utterly irresistible.

When I grew silent, Letty never questioned my thoughts. Whether it was because she was lost in thoughts of a similar persuasion or because she was afraid that she already knew what I was thinking, I would never know. But there was an unspoken understanding between us, a casual privacy clause vital to our friendship.

We bothered Taco Boy at the concession stand every day at the beach. Letty found him to be an easy target because he was naïve and kind of gangly. Her torture of him continued until he got food poisoning (we suspected it was from one of his own tacos) and had to quit the job, going home to the States.

One Friday night, mid-August, the boys got in late, exhausted. Letty and I had just gotten in from twelve hours at the beach, and I think we were as wiped as they were. Leon pulled me up to his room with that unfailing adamant ardor and we fumbled our way through each other's orgasms. He fell asleep mere seconds afterward, one hand splayed on the plane of my stomach. I pushed up onto my elbows, lying on my back beside him, and looked at the peace of his sleeping face, the gentle sandy-brown curl of his hairline against the gold of his forehead.

He was a beautiful man, and I loved him very much. He was kind with me, had a gentle hand, and in the two weeks we'd been back together, he hadn't so much as mentioned going all the way, hadn't pressured me in the least to fuck him. I knew as I looked at him that someday, he was going to make someone very happy. Someone who would love him exclusively, first and foremost. Someone who would not be a sneaky, two-timing, insatiable Dom-fiend like me.

Disgusted with myself, I moved his hand off of me and onto the pillow near his face and climbed out of the bed, heading down the stairs and into the kitchen. I froze as my eyes made out the black shadowy hulk of Dominic looming there, against the refrigerator, the lit end of his cigarette a glowing orange bead in the darkness. I drew a deep breath and fidgeted with the breast pocket on Leon's white tee-shirt, which was all I wore.

"Hey, Isabel Adams." His voice moved across my body as if it were its own living entity, my heart throbbing in my throat, and I somehow forced a smile.

"Hey, Dominic Toretto."

"Can't sleep?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"Haven't tried yet. Just thirsty."

He nodded slowly and stepped aside so that I could get at the fridge.

"Go ahead."

"Thanks," I said, hating the breathiness of my voice, and as I closed my hand around the handle on the door, I made the fatal mistake of looking up into his face. In the false, eerie light from the refrigerator, the obsidian black of his eyes was gleaming, radiating thick, dark heat, and my cruel mind flashed me back to the image of those eyes, staring up at me from between my legs. I felt weak at the recollection, almost sank to a weeping heap on the tiling of the kitchen floor, and only when I gasped for a new breath did I realize that I had been holding the old one. My arms ached to hold him, my lips tingling with the mere thought of kissing him, and my fingers itched to be holding something other than the door handle. "I think…" I whispered. "I think I'd better go back to bed."

"Yeah," he nodded, stumbling back away from me, the gravel in his voice revealing the fact that I wasn't the only one struggling. "Yeah, I think so."

Somehow (and I still don't know how I did it), I managed to turn and cross the kitchen, out into the living room, up the stairs, and with mechanical legs, I closed the distance between myself and the bed Leon slept in, unknowing and thankfully so. I climbed in next to him, breathing hard, and threw an arm across his body, burying my face in his chest.

_Shit._


	28. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

Vince staggered into the living room, feeling no pain, eyelids at half-mast, and flopped down on the couch at my side. I looked up over at him, and he gave me this slow, lazy grin.

"Drunk off your ass, Vinnie?" I asked, and he nodded. "Seen Leon?" He shook his head.

The house was full of people I didn't know, predominantly female people, and Leon had gotten up to get a beer and had not come back. I figured he'd gotten stuck off somewhere talking to someone. Resort security had been by three times to ask us to tone it down, and the most recent time, they'd said if the noise level didn't improve, they were sending the police.

The music had been turned down, but the people...Jesus, where had all these people even come from? Mexico City, I was guessing, because the majority of them were not wealthy little white girls. I was definitely glad I'd opted to wear my Letty-wannabe clothes, because the majority of these chicas were Latina, mid-twenties, voluptuous to the point of vulgarity, and the music, now at a low roar, was frenetic, picante salsa interspersed with occasional hits of gangsta rap.

"I'm in love with Mia, Iz."

My head snapped up to face Vince.

"What?"

"I love Mia. I loved her since I was fourteen years old. I'm gonna marry her."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, and he nodded. "Would this be before or after she falls out of love with Brian?"

He shrugged and gave me that same slow smile.

"Dun matter. It's the way it's s'posed to be. Dom and Letty. Me an' Mia. Leon and..."

Vince looked stumped.

"Well, I don't know. Leon and Jesse, was the way it always was. Bachelors. Leon and Jesse. Me and Mia. The Dawg and Letty."

Last I'd seen of Letty, she was dancing with Dominic at the center of an applauding ring of sweating partygoers on the living room floor. The house seemed almost twice its normal size, since anything that belonged to Dom, Letty, Leon, Vince, Mia, or Brian was packed up and stacked up in column after column of boxes along the hallway wall. In order to get to the bathroom, we had to flatten ourselves against the wallpaper and creep along the wall like Bond.

Eight days left of vacation. Five days until I would bid farewell to all of them. Each time those figures came into my mind, I shoved the thought away. New York was a hazy collage of bad memories for me, and I hated the fact that my old life was waiting for me. That Jackson was waiting for me. That school was waiting for me. Snow and ice. Slush. Gray skies and smog and concrete. Ten million grim, stressed faces. Twenty-five story office buildings, forever reaching for the next rung on that pointless corporate ladder. Men and women in threadbare trench coats sleeping on park benches, newspapers tugged over them in an attempt to keep warm.

It was all very depressing, so I refused to think about it. What I thought about, instead, was everything that had happened to me that summer. I had a mental Rolodex of images, each memory stored and filed, and I would sit and pick through them, relive it all. At least I could do that. At least I'd always, always be able to do that.

"I did see Leon."

"What?" I looked over at Vince, snapping out of it.

"I did see Leon. He's upstairs. Talking to someone."

"He drunk?" I asked, and Vince laughed, leaning back into the sofa and tousling my hair. He left his hand on top of my head as he responded, and I couldn't help but smile. He could be hilarious sometimes.

"Drunker than me."

"Oh, Jesus. I'm afraid now," I chuckled, standing up and stretching, long and loud. I jerked to one side to avoid the golden arc of someone's airborne beer as it lurched from their red plastic party cup.

"You going up to find him?" Vince asked, and I nodded. "Don't look in the master bathroom. Dom and Letty are testing the sink."

"Testing it for what?" I snorted, and he gave me this crooked, inebriated grin.

"Durability, I guess. I donno."

"Right. Point taken." I turned and disappeared into the crowd, fighting my way toward the stairs, but an arm went around my waist. I jumped and craned my neck to see who had me, and grinned when I saw that it was Leon, my back pinned to his front, and when I managed to face him, his breath was liquor-laden and dragon-hot. I wrinkled my nose, but kissed him anyway. He dragged me backward toward the sliding doors, which were open. He tripped on the threshold and we fell back into the sand.

He had drunk himself clumsy, but his hunger was appealing to me. I loved the way he looked at me, as if I were the only thing he could see. The wind whipped a fine film of sand against our skin, and the night was black and stormy and starless, so we were the only partygoers out of doors. Leon's mouth was urgent and ardent on mine, and on my throat and my shoulders. He got to his feet with no small amount of effort and pulled me to stand up, tugging me toward the water's edge. Losing his balance again, he brought me down with him, and my heart was pounding as he worked his hands up into my skirt, gripping my ass in his hands and settling between my legs. His fingernails dragged with my thong down my thighs as his mouth trailed down my neck, between my breasts, over my belly. I knew where he was going with this and it was 110% fine with me, and when his tongue hit home, I arched my back and fisted my hands in his hair.

Letty and I sat slouching on the couch in my parents' villa, both dressed in traditional urban bombshell garb.

"Absolutely not," my father said, regarding Letty with palpable distaste. Or maybe the distaste was self-stimulated, and he hated himself for wanting her so much. Even though she was pregnant and it had become obvious over the past few weeks, Letty still elicited some sort of raw, tangible sensuality. Maybe it was this that had roped in Dominic in the first place, the almost brutal physicality, the genuine tough-girl aura she projected.

"Why not?" Letty asked, and he shook his head.

"She's got to be in New York."

"She'll be back on time, it'll be fine. It's a six-hour drive one way. We leave today, she's there with us for three days, she drives back the fifth day and there's still three days before y'all are supposed to leave for the States."

"She's going to drive from Mexico City to Puerto Vallarta all by herself? In what car? In _whose_ car?"

"Leon's gonna drive me back, Dad."

"Ah, Leon. Excellent!" The sarcasm and cynical sneer in my father's tone were flagrant and superfluous, and I could sense Letty bristling beside me.

"Listen, Pops. Leon's a good man. A better man than you could ever wet-dream of being. And if you don't like him, tough shit. Because Izzie's 18 now, isn't that right? And she can do whatever she damn well pleases." Letty rose to her feet and scratched at her belly absentmindedly through the black racer-back wifebeater she'd stolen from Dominic, the tops of her swollen breasts rising out over the scooped neckline. The look in her black eyes as she glared at my father said, 'Try me. I dare you.' He didn't bite the bait, though, just slammed his whisky down on the coffee table and left the room, and Letty turned to me with both thumbs pointing skyward. "Let's go."

There was a man looking at Letty's Viper when we reached Dom's place, and Letty sniffed and pouted theatrically, climbing up on the hood and sprawling across it. I shook my head, grinning, but Dom found little humor in it.

"Get your ass off this man's car," he growled.

Letty looked at the man coolly, unimpressed.

"This is my car."

"No, _that's_ your car," Dom said, hauling her off the hood of the Viper and placing her on her feet unceremoniously, pointing at the 240 SX. "We talked about this. Isabel, Leon's loading boxes. Can you help?"

"Sure," I said softly, the sound of his voice rolling over my name an echoing mantra through my mind.

"Letty, go with her. I'm closing a deal here."

Let scowled at him, and Dom couldn't help a bit of a smirk, slapping her ass lightly.

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

I found Leon and Vince piling the last mountain of boxes into a trailer, which was hitched to a black Chevy pickup, a lowrider with a naked Aztec woman airbrush painted on the hood. Licking my cherry-flavored lips, I smiled at him, and he smiled back, tossing a box onto the trailer and coming over to me. He roped his arms around my waist and kissed me, deeply. The hunger of his kisses never ceased to amaze me, to take me off-guard. His love was comforting, flattering, and painful all rolled into one. I felt secure in his arms, felt as if he loved me unconditionally and without fail, but I also couldn't shake that guilt, the guilt of being loved so deeply by a man and not loving him that way in return.

"I'm going to miss you," he said, in that scratchy voice of his, and I sighed a little.

"I know. I'm going to miss you too."

"Are you?" he asked, pulling back and meeting my eyes with the cool green of his, and I nodded.

"Yeah. I am."

"Are you gonna go back to Jackson when you get back to New York?"

" No," I said. "At least, not back to being his girlfriend."

"Good.

"Leon?" I rested my ear over his heart and closed my eyes, the sunlight more than warm on my face, and he cupped the back of my head in one hand.

"Yeah?"

"Do you wish you never met me?"

"Hell no, I don't wish I never met you."

"You don't think I've been more trouble than it's been worth?"

"No, I don't. I did at one time, but I don't now. All the girls before you...Now I can see that all the girls before you have just been a waste of time. Going through the motions and not really feeling anything. Now I know what it's supposed to feel like. Now I know what love is. Now I know what to look for next time." He grew quiet for a moment. "And I think you do too." I swallowed hard and was going to speak, but he continued. "I don't want to lose you, but I don't want you to stay here, either. You got a life to live. Big stuff to do." His voice cracked on the last word, and I flinched at his pain, but took comfort in his words. He was saying that this hurt right now, but that he would be better for it in the future. _We_ would be better for it in the future. "C'mon," he said, taking a stab at light-heartedness. "Let's get this shit loaded so we can hit the road."

I sat in the black leather passenger seat of the pickup, my feet resting on a little cooler that was full of ice and sandwiches and Corona. Leon was driving, one arm hanging out the window, his curls sun bleached and blowing in the breeze. I yawned and leaned against the locked door, alternating between just looking at him and conjuring images of Dominic.

I missed him. As my departure became imminent, I missed him more and more acutely. I felt as if the two of us, Dominic and myself, had been shorted. Gypped. As if there was supposed to be more, something more between us. I could not believe the power with which I loved him, and the regretful intensity with which he gazed on me when Letty and Leon were out of eyeshot. I remembered that day when, at just barely sunrise, he'd climbed the drainpipe to my bedroom window and had been so charming. I remembered the warm softness of his lips pressed to mine, and his baritone reassurance that it would not hurt when he gently slipped a finger inside of me.

I wished that I had initiated intercourse with him. I wish that I had gone all the way with him on one of those occasions, that I had pulled his mouth from between my legs and taken his hips in my hungry hands and guided him home. I remembered my shock at the size of him when he'd undressed for our shower, that beautiful body with beaded water clinging to the caramel rounds of his shoulders, those enormous arms around me, his words of guidance and comfort, and his erection pressed warm and thick against my belly. I was stupid to have not fucked him. And now he was taken. And now he was a family man. And now I would lose it to Leon. Not that the prospect was entirely unappealing.

Suddenly I could see him before me as he'd been the night that he had smashed Brian's face in, his massive form filling my doorway, smelling of ocean, wearing nothing but a pair of huge jeans, muscles there for me to rape repeatedly with my eyes. I remembered getting him a drink, the way he'd looked with the glass in his hand, and he words he'd said, about Leon not pressuring me, about how I'd know when I was ready.  
><em>I'm ready now, Dom.<em>

I was so ready I was in pain, and I squirmed a little, changing positions and tugging my leather shorts out away from my crotch to ease the discomfort my train of thought had instigated. If Leon noticed, he said nothing, and I reached for a beer, feeling hot in the face and elsewhere.

"You want one?" I asked, holding out a Corona, and he smiled.

"Sure. Can you open that for me?"

I did, and handed it to him, and he chugged half of it on the first pull. I did much of the same, then held the icy, perspiring bottle to my fiery cheek.

"Dom and Letty are stopping," I said, and Leon frowned at the car in front of him, then pulled over into the gas station behind them.

"Let's prob'ly gotta pee," he said.

"I do, too. I'll be right back."

He nodded, and I jumped out of the truck, groaning as I stretched. Letty smiled at me. She looked tired, but otherwise healthy. A doctor at the women's clinic had told her that the fifth month was a big month for growth, and they hadn't been kidding. She was now big enough so that the general public could tell that she was pregnant, but when she had a baggy tee-shirt on, it was still hide-able.

She and Dominic still had not fought. He was tender with her, understanding. She was emotionally erratic, and he took it in stride. I was beginning to think that maybe he'd been made for this job. Husband, father, etcetera...Maybe this is what he'd been wanting, and this change was welcome. Then again, maybe he was throwing himself into it wholeheartedly because he had no choice, going after it with a dogged determination to succeed.

"Gotta pee?" I asked Letty, and she shook her head.

"Need chocolate."

"You're not supposed to-"

"Shh," she hissed, cutting me off, and I laughed.

"All right then. I gotta pee. Wait for me, aright?"

She nodded, and I headed into the bathroom. I pulled down my shorts and my panties and looked at the little red spot there.

"Awww, fuck!" I cursed, and my profanity rained back on me in a string of echoes. Letty poked her head in the door.

"Gonna make it?"

"Get me a tampon," I said. So much for my big farewell to Leon. Letty nodded and reappeared a few seconds later, handing it to me. I laughed as I accepted it. "What, you just steal one out of the first box you found?"

"Yeah. And?"

"And would you do me a favor and purchase the rest of them?" I asked, kicking the door shut on the stall.

"No prob."

I flushed my thong and headed back out into the store Commando-style. Letty had some nondescript chocolate bar hanging out of her mouth as she handed me the little paper bag containing my feminine products.

"Thanks."

"No prob," she repeated, and glanced at the clock behind the counter. "Only four more hours. I'm going to stuff my face and try to get some sleep."

"Yeah, well, you get to stretch out in the back of the Escalade. I'm stuck in the front of the world's tiniest truck."

"You tired?"

"Nah," I sighed, and kicked a beer can across the parking lot.

"Were you gonna fuck Leon before you left?" she asked, her eyes on my profile, and I shrugged.

"Probably."

Letty grinned, that wicked gleam of mischief in her eye as I looked up at her.

"There are alternative methods of-"

"Don't even say it," I broke her off. "Don't you even _think_ it. I am not... I shook my head to clear it, and she laughed out loud. "I'm not doin' that. Ack. Pain."

"It only seems kinky the first time."

"See you in the City, Letty," I said, ducking into the cab of the truck and shaking my head. "Good Lord."

"What?" Leon asked, looking up into my face. I wondered if my cheeks were as red as they felt.

"Nothing." I waved my hand dismissively. "Letty."

Apparently this was explanation enough for him, because he started the engine again and pulled out onto the main drag behind Vince, who was following the Escalade in Letty's maroon 240 SX.

We arrived in Mexico City at around eleven p.m., and when Letty climbed out of the Escalade, her hair was in some sort of splendid disarray and her face was creased with sleep lines. Dominic was only slightly more awake than she was, and he'd been driving. Vince growled as he stretched, and Leon came to stand beside me, winding one arm around my waist and pulling me in close to him.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Is she ever?" Vince answered for me, and I stuck my tongue out at him. Letty wrapped her arms around Dominic's middle, and I remembered the time, just a few short weeks ago, at the beach while Viri was there, that she had done the exact same thing and been completely ignored. This time Dom enfolded her in both large arms and kissed the top of her head.

_Maybe things HAVE changed..._

"Yeah," I said, looking up at Leon. "Let's go and get something to eat before we start unpacking."

"Fuck unpacking," Dom put in. "We can start on that tomorrow. Let's get something to eat and catch a few hours' sleep. The boxes aren't going to go anywhere. We gotta sort everything anyway, see what goes to which house."

"What do you mean?" I asked, and Leon gave me a gentle squeeze.

"We're not gonna be all one big happy family anymore, Iz."

"The hell we're not," Vince broke in. "It's just that we won't be all under the same roof."

"V and Leon will be in that house, there...The blue one." Dom pointed up the street and I squinted in the limited light. "Me and Letty will be here." He threw a thumb over his shoulder to gesture at the white one behind him. "Since we're gonna have a little one...Get married, all that jazz, we figured it'd be best to split up. So we'll be close. Nothing's really gonna change."

_Au contraire, monsieur_, I thought, but Vince and Leon both seemed satisfied with the explanation, so I left well enough alone.

"So. Food." Letty brought us back to the matter at hand. "Wanna go to La Rosa? I could do some chimis."

"Yeah, me too," I said softly.

"All right," Dom nodded. "Lemme just go inside and drain it, and I'll be right back."

Drain it. My mind ran those words through a few times. It. I'd seen It. I'd seen It, and It was massively impressive. Jesus. This was beyond a fixation. This was masochism. I'd be leaving in seven days, and I would not be coming back. And on top of all of that, I had my fucking period, which was more accurate than clockwork and had lasted exactly four days every month since its first appearance in seventh grade, which meant it was due to disappear right around the time that Leon dropped me in front of my parents' villa home and drove out of my life for the last time. I was next to positive that I was going to be a virgin forever.

Dinner was quiet, and I gave Leon head and then told him I had my period when he offered to reciprocate. He asked me if I had cramps and if I wanted a massage, and I answered yes to both, then fell asleep while his hands were manipulating the knotted muscles of my lower back. When I woke, I was tucked under his arm, my head on his chest, in his bed at his new home.

My stirring roused him and he blinked down at me drowsily.

"Hey," he whispered, and I smiled.

"Hey."

"You don't have to help unpack, you know. You can just follow me around and keep me company."

"It's all right. Just open the box with the Tylenol in it first."

He grinned.

"That bad?"

"Leon, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his free hand.

"For having my fucking period."

"I don't think it's your fault."

"Yeah, but that means we can't..."

"So? It's not like I was counting on it."

"You weren't?"

He frowned. "Whattaya take me for?"

I smiled. "It's just that I was."

"You were?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I was."

Something came over his features then, an expression I hadn't seen before. Something intense and very soft all at once. Something tortured and touched in unison. I could tell he wanted to question me further, but that he thought better of it and opted for silence, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answers to his questions. He just embraced me tightly and pressed his lips to my forehead in a long, lingering kiss that told me everything and nothing at the same time.

Both houses were a blur of activity, and I wandered back and forth between the two all that day. There were three houses between Dom and Letty's place and Leon and V's, and I swear that over the course of that day I must have walked about six miles going to and fro, alternating between helping Dom and Letty and helping Leon and Vince. By the time everything was situated, it was damn near sunset, and I was exhausted. Letty was equally wiped, and we tugged out the sleeper sofa and passed out side-by-side on it.

It was about twelve hours before I opened my eyes again, achy and blinded by the sunlight blasting in through Dom and Letty's living room windows. I staggered into the kitchen and looked down at the counter, smiling a little at what I saw there. One of the boys had snapped a whole roll of Polaroid film of me and Letty sleeping and the photos were lined up on the countertop to develop.

"You can have some of those if you want."

A deep, throaty voice from behind me. I turned and smiled into the face of Dominic Toretto. For such a large man, he made very little noise when moving about.

"Cool," I nodded. "Thanks. I don't have many pictures from this summer at all."

"I know. We don't either. And you mean so much to her. So when you and Let crashed like that, I couldn't resist."

"Thanks," I said again, and then my conscience tugged at the hem of my shirt. I cleared my throat. "Leon go home?"

"Yeah, just. He's probably in exquisite pain. The three of us were up to no good last night. Last night and a good part of this morning."

"Oh yeah?" I grinned.

"Yeah."

It was then that I noticed that Dominic wasn't drowsy in the least, and that he was not wearing pajamas. He was fully dressed, clothes looking well-worn and wrinkled.

"Are you just getting in?"

"Yeah. Leon and I carried Vince up to bed. I'm hoping Leon made it down the hallway to his own room."

"You gonna try and get some rest now?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest and rubbing my shoulders.

"You know better," he smiled, heading for the fridge, and I nodded, remembering what he'd told me about insomnia. The line he walked across the small, cozy kitchen was none too straight, and I hoped he wasn't planning on working out, per his norm. I heard the creak of the fold-out mattress and Letty's waking moans and groans.

"I think I'll go see what's become of Leon. See you later, Dom."

He waved without looking back and I tousled Let's hair on the way out. She lifted one hand in a sort of half-assed wave, and I made my way back to Leon's place.

He was sprawled diagonally across his bed, still wearing his shoes and jeans, and I wasn't sure from looking at him whether he was asleep or passed out. I untied his sneakers and pulled them off, then worked at his belt buckle and dragged off his jeans. He woke up in a partial, semi-conscious sort of a way and smiled at me, murmuring something loving and intelligible, then flopped his head back down onto the pillow and was lost to the world once again.

I had a quiet day alone. I'm not sure what Letty and Dom were up to, but Leon and Vince were sleeping. I found a book worth looking at and slipped into their bathtub up to my neck and soaked until the water was cold. I drained the bath and took the book with me out onto the little porch, sitting and watching a couple of little inky-black-haired girls jump rope with a length of extension cord. I couldn't understand the words to the limerick they were repeating, but I memorized it all the same.

"Abajo del Puente, sale corriente, viene Pepito, tocando su pepito...Verdad que toca bien...pirimpimpim...Verdad que toca mal...porompompom...Si te mueves o te dies, te bradia coscorron."

I wasn't sure if all the words were correct, and made a mental note to ask Let what it meant later.

We ate dinner at La Rosa again, and there was a live mariachi band set up in one corner of the restaurant, playing some sort of weeping serenade that I couldn't help internalizing. It was so desperately sad, so obviously, deeply sorrowful. It crept up on me, the sensation, and before I knew it, I was crying into my tacos. Dominic noticed first, then caught Leon's eye and pointed at me, and Leon dropped his fork, wrapping his arm around me.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Izzie? You sick?"

"No, I'm not sick," I sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm such a fucking baby. I just...I just don't want to say goodbye to you guys."

And then Letty was crying, and Vince was well on his way to being unconscious, so he started crying without really knowing why, and Dominic excused himself and stood up while the rest of us clung to each other over the wobbly little table in that seedy restaurant in Mexico City, everybody sniffing and slobbering on everyone else, proclaiming our love for one another and making adamant promises to write at least once a week, and to stay in touch by phone...

I cried until my head was pounding and I was damn near dehydrated, and Vince said something about a beer that I didn't quite catch. Letty must have caught it, though, because her sobs turned to laughter, and then Vince stood up and fell on his ass on the restaurant floor, and I looked at him, sitting there and grinning from behind his scruffy beard. I couldn't help but laugh, and Leon joined in, and Dom came back to the table and all five of us sat and relived the summer until the joint closed and we were forced to head to our respective beds.

I said goodbye to Letty and Vince and Dominic on the curb in front of Dom and Letty's new place. It was a sort of rushed farewell, because Dominic and Vince had to meet the Torlones at ten a.m. somewhere downtown, and my parents were neurotic about me being back before the end-of-summer beach bash at that stupid fucking resort. All their rich friends were bringing their kids, and they couldn't possibly go to the bash without their hood ornaments.

So all of our collective emotions from the entire summer were crammed into right around five minutes of blood, sweat and tears. I don't know where Mia and Brian were, or why I hadn't grown close to them in the past three months. They'd always been sort of drifters, in and out across the backdrop of my frenetic Leon-and-Dom driven life. So it was just Us. Just Leon, Letty, Vince, Dominic, and Isabel Adams.

At first, the five of us stood around and fidgeted, not knowing what to say, and then Dominic opened his massive arms and we all gravitated toward him. We came together into an insistent group hug with an urgent clash of emotions, all of us talking and tearing up simultaneously. Then we all quieted, all at once, and just held each other, swaying gently back and forth, for what seemed like an eternity but was, in reality, more like two or three minutes. I said hurried individual goodbyes then.

Vince.

"You take care, aright?" he asked, embracing me and kissing me with a noisy slurp on the cheek, his moustache rough on my skin. I nodded, filing the smell of his spicy deodorant away. His scent is now the most vivid recollection I have of him.

Dominic.

"Be good, Isabel." And an awkward hug and a quick brush of his lips to my cheek under Letty's watchful eye. I wanted to scream. I felt weak there in his arms, wanted to drop to my knees and wrap my arms around his legs and beg him to take me. Save me from the rest of my life. Give up Letty and the baby and the new house and everything...But somehow, thankfully, I kept it together, let the feel of his hard torso make a lasting impression in my memory.

Letty.

"It's been great," she said, in a husky whisper, as we hugged. "You write to me, you got that? Every goddamned day."

"Yeah, Let. And you got my address, right? To tell me about the baby and stuff?"

"Yeah." We were both all choked up, and somehow our lips met and we kissed, briefly, much as we had that night in the hotel under Viri's guidance, only this felt different. Natural. Comfortable. Cripplingly sad.

Baby.

I gave Let's belly a gentle rub and a quick kiss.

"You grow up big and strong, you hear?" I spoke directly at Let's navel. "And give your mami and papi hell."

Letty laughed, and Dom managed a vague, far-off smile.

"Gee, thanks, Iz."

Mexico City.

We drove away from them. Vince and Letty waved until I could no longer see them, but Dominic went inside. I wondered if he was glad to be rid of me or couldn't bear to see me drive away. I cried, and Leon drove with one hand resting at the top of the chain-link steering wheel and the other on my knee. I wasn't sure if his touch comforted me or disgusted me, whether I wanted his hand there or if I wanted to shove it off and scream at him, _Don't you get it? You're not the one! You're not the one I want!_ But I loved him, so I said nothing. I just cried. Cried, and then fell asleep.

Leon.

I stood with him before the villa house that I was sharing with my parents, and allowed him to wrap his arms around me for the last time.

"I love you, Izzie. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I have loved you. I'll never forget this summer."

"Me either," I croaked, my voice hoarse from all the crying. I had no tears left, or I would have been weeping then, as well.

"Gonna write to me?" he asked, and I pulled back a little and looked up at him.

"Do you want me to?"

He was silent for a moment, staring down at me with that intense green gaze.

"Would you be hurt if I said no?"

I shook my head.

"I would understand," I rasped. "And I think I would be relieved."

He nodded, his eyes welling and overflowing.

"So," he sighed shakily. "Goodbye, then?"

"Yeah." I rested my forehead at the center of his chest and stared down the flatness of his stomach, down at the gleaming white of his K-Swiss sneakers. "Goodbye, then."

"Can I have one last kiss?"

"It would be my pleasure," I said, and somehow, my eyes managed to conjure yet another flood. I kissed him. I kissed him with all the hunger he'd ever projected at me, with all the ardor and tenderness and compassion and love he'd ever lavished on my undeserving heart, mind, and body. I gave it all back to him in that kiss. I gave it all back to him in that goodbye.

He stood a moment, filled with my kiss, breathing hard, and he fought a visible battle with his legs, finally winning and forcing himself to return to the little black truck. I watched him drive away with a heavy heart, clutching the Polaroids of me and Letty, sure that it was all over, and feeling very alone. I whispered the word to no one and everyone and nothing and everything, and the mild, Puerto Vallartan breeze carried it away.

"Goodbye."


	29. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

I was mercifully numb as I went through the motions of getting ready for my mother's stupid fucking beach bash. I put on a nice sundress, some strappy sandals, a bra and everything. Went all-out conservative and checked to make sure my period was gone and ran a brush through my hair, leaving my face bare with the exception of some watermelon lip gloss, and when I came downstairs, my father actually smiled at me.

"Very nice, Isabel," he said, between mouthfuls of brandy, and I managed to smile in return.

"Thanks. We going?"

"Waiting for your mother, as usual," he said, unbuttoning his cream-colored linen sports coat and loosening his tie.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." My mom waltzed out of the first-floor bathroom in a long, pale-peach-colored evening gown. She was beautiful, and always had been. She kissed my cheek, and I sighed a little. I had to become Isabel Adams again. I had to be their daughter again.

The paper lanterns swayed soft and slow, back and forth, on the tropical breeze, and the air was full of the scent and sounds of a beautiful barbecue, large steel trays heavily laden with brilliant vegetables and tender, marinated meats. I was surprised to find myself starving, and I loaded up a plate, wrapping meat and peppers and onions and rice and cheese in a giant flour tortilla. I sat down at a table with my folks, crossing my legs daintily like the rich girl I'd once more be, and devoured the food. I ordered a margarita and a pina colada, and my parents didn't so much as flinch.

I must have eaten too much too fast, because almost as soon as I swallowed the last bite, I had to make a bee-line for the bathroom, and all the pretty colors came up and out and sank to the bottom of the toilet. I flushed and sat down and willed myself not to cry. Not to think about them, any of them, and not to cry. It was for naught. The tears came regardless of my resistance and I drew deep, shaky breaths, trying to remain calm.

I thought through the possibility of staying there, in Mexico, of hitch-hiking to the City. I knew Leon would take me back, live the lie forever, but it wouldn't be fair to either of us, and the lack of sensibility was thankfully fleeting. Splashing some cool water on my eyes to reduce the redness created by crying, I returned to the party, rinsing the sour taste from my mouth with the icy sweetness of my mixed drink. I played the gracious and demure hood ornament for several more hours, then excused myself and went home to bed, knowing that my parents would be partying until six a.m. as long as they had company.

Sleep would not come to me. I tossed and turned, tangling my body in the sheets and sweating in the throbbing stifle of the heat. It was going to be a very long 50-some hours, caught in limbo there under my parents' watchful eye. As I struggled to sleep, I brainstormed, coming up with various ways to evade them, to avoid spending time golfing and sight-seeing for the next two days. I planned several excuses and decided I could fake an illness if the need were to arise.

They say misery loves company, but I was very much alone, and well aware of it. None of my 'friends' in New York would recognize me when I went back. They wouldn't know me physically, and I'd changed inside as much as I had on the outside. I would be going to a new school, though, to an Ivy League college, where I would know no one. The truest friends I'd ever known would be separated from me by thousands of miles.

I would probably lose my virginity to some rich frat boy while I was bombed-out drunk, wake up with an ache between my legs and no recollection of how it had gotten there. I would throw myself into my studies, get straight A's, be a machine, a workaholic, and try to forget the black of Dominic Toretto's eyes, the crease and contour of his muscles as he moved, the way white cotton looked against his skin, and the way his mouth felt on my body.

The sand was still warm from the merciless 18-hour beating it had taken from the sun that day, and it slipped up between my toes as I walked, stripping off my clothes as I went, and dove into the gentle surf. My heart felt so heavy I was sure it would pull me to the bottom and hold me there, and that I would drown. I wasn't in complete opposition to the idea, staying underwater until I saw prickly multicolored stars against the black backdrop of my eyelids, then broke the surface with a ragged gasp/sob that tore up and out of my chest.

It couldn't be over. Not yet. It couldn't end this way. All I could see, all I could hear, all I could feel was Dominic. I just needed to be with him, just a few moments more. Just one more second. Just one more breath. One hour, one night...It couldn't end this way.

I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want to hurt anymore. I drew another deep breath and plunged my weary body back down into the tugging oblivion of the waves. The pain was omnipresent, searing, and yet, not physical. I wanted it to end, wanted to have the courage to open my mouth and draw in great lungfuls of saltwater and end it, take control of something I had no control over, put myself out of my misery.

I couldn't do it. Weeping, I crawled back up onto the sand and collapsed. I pulled my knees up to my chest and held them there, lying in that fetal position until I was too weak to cry anymore. Shaking, rubber-limbed, I forced sticky arms and legs back into the tee-shirt and boxers that had been serving as my pajamas and stumbled back into the house, my hair full of sand, shivering from air-drying in the night wind. To this day, I'm not sure how I made it up those stairs, but I did. Sank down onto my bed and was asleep before my bad-addled head hit the pillow.

I have some vague recollection of my mother trying to wake me somewhere near midday the next afternoon, of telling her I was tired, and that she should go away. She must have listened to me, because I didn't wake again until 5 p.m., and the house was silent. Although I'd been sleeping for somewhere close to 16 hours, when I sat up in bed, I was thoroughly awake and completely subdued. I climbed out of bed and flipped through the clothes in my closet. Black leather and red mesh stuck haphazardly in between pale blue cotton, navy rayon, gingham blouses. I ran my fingertips down the length of the pale blue sundress, then closed my hand on the skirt. It was soft, clingy in the chest, easy to move in, the neckline cut low, and it was ankle-length. I tugged it off the hanger and took it into the bathroom with me, along with a white cotton thong and a soft white bra.

I lingered in the shower, letting the grit of the sand stream over my skin and make swirling trails toward the drain, my hair a flat, wet blanket against my back. I looked down at my body and scarcely recognized it as my own. My ribs pressed out against my skin, my hip bones protruding. My legs looked long and slender, and my belly was completely flat. My breasts were half the size they'd been when I had stepped off that plane, and my skin was a deep gold from the sun. I shaved my legs and armpits and bikini line and looked at the blade on the razor longer than I should have before stepping out and toweling off.

I fought a comb through the tangled length of my hair and pulled on my underwear and the dress, and when I looked in the mirror, I liked what I saw. If I lost any more weight, I would be too thin. But at the moment, I had the body of the young dancer Isabel Adams. The body that was irreproachable even in a spandex leotard under the glaring scrutiny of the stage lights.

The air hung heavy with the sweet scent of my lilac shampoo as I crossed the room to stand at the window and stare out at sand and sea.

It wasn't real to me at first, what and whom I saw standing there, down that stretch of beach. Like an oasis, like a mirage, the image of him blurred itself as my mind registered it. Blurred and then became pristine. Hands deep in the pockets of baggy khakis, broad shoulders bared by a white wifebeater, clean-shaven head bowed slightly, staring down or out or both, he stood there.

I couldn't breathe, and, at first, I couldn't move. I stood with a white-knuckled grip on the window, my mouth falling open in silent disbelief. I tried to speak his name, but it would not come, and I backed slowly away from the window, still not quite sure that I'd seen him. As if partially frozen, I took the stairs slowly, with great hesitation, holding the sky-colored cotton up out of the way of my feet, terrified that I was going to open the back doors and look down toward the Toretto villa home and see nothing but what I'd expected to see upon going to my bedroom window-sand and sea.

But he was there. My breaths became tortured and short and fast, and I covered my mouth with both hands, tears pooling in my eyes and spilling over the guardlines of my lower lashes. Letting go of control and rationality, I broke into a run, sobbing out his name as I went.

"Dominic."

He turned and opened his arms to me. In that moment, I knew that I had not been mistaken. He'd come back alone, to be with me. His face dark and pensive as ever, he strode determinedly toward me, and when I reached him, my body hit his so hard that the impact forced the air from my lungs. He never wavered, though, kept his footing and wrapped his arms around me and covered my mouth with his. I was falling fast, seeing stars, losing myself in his kiss, and when he broke contact, I was breathless.

"Come inside," he said, enfolding one of my hands in one of his and leading me toward the back door of the house that was his for another 48 hours.

Inside, everything was naked and antiseptic, every trace of them gone, and he pulled me to a bedroom on the first floor, the one that had served as a guest room, the one where Viri had demanded to know why Letty couldn't get rid of Dominic and Letty had given an honest, wordless answer.

His lips found mine again, his hands shoving the stretchy straps of the dress down over my shoulders, baring them to his kiss. My heart was pounding, everything from my waist down a cool, humming tingle of fear mixed with anticipation, and he trailed his mouth off of mine, along my jawline, nipping with gentle lips at the soft, tender skin at the joint of my throat and my shoulder. I could hear my breaths, short little gasps, and his, long and smooth and measured. As he lifted me into his arms to carry me to the bed, I felt the brush of his erection through his jeans against my thigh. I remembered the sight and texture and girth of it and bit my lower lip, closing my eyes, as he laid me back into the soft white of the pillows.

Dominic peeled my dress up and over my head, his movements slow and easy, as if he went too fast, I would back out. Maybe it was true. I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I'd been waiting far too long for this and that the room was spinning, and my fingers found the buckle of his belt, but he stopped them.

"Not yet," he rumbled gently, and I nodded, letting my hands fall, one on either side of my head, clenching the pillowcase in two fists as he covered my breasts with his palms and began a slow, circular massage, settling his hips between my legs, my panties and his khakis separating us from each other. The delicious pressure of the heels of his hands with each pass back and forth over my nipples sent intense darts of a scalding, filling phenomenon down the flat of my belly to build and center between my legs.

When I thought I could take his touch no more, he slipped his fingertips up beneath the elastic of my bra and fluttered them against the swollen, blood-filled tips, and it felt so good I thought I was going to cry, my heart in my throat, my entire body trembling. Dominic circled his hands back around to the garment's closure and unhooked it deftly, slipping its straps over my shoulders and discarding it. Cradling my torso in his hands, he dipped his head and tugged one of my nipples into the dark, wet heat of his mouth, pinning it between his lips and rolling his tongue over it. Leaving a damp trail across the valley of my breasts, he dragged his mouth to the other side and repeated the beautiful torture. My hips rocked involuntarily up to meet his, seeking the friction there that I knew would bring me relief, but he took one hip in each hand and pinned me to the mattress, alternating between my left and right breast, switching again and again, and the cotton of the pillowcase grew hot in my grip.

Opening my hands stiffly, I moved them to the velvety prickle of his scalp, and I saw and felt him smile against the sensitive wetness of my skin. Hooking his thumbs underneath the waistline of my underwear, he dragged them down, down to just above my knees, and rolled over off of me, settling beside me and sinking one hand into my hair, the other flattened on the plane of my stomach. I looked at him, asking a thousand silent questions, but he closed his eyes against my interrogation and sought out my mouth as he slipped his hand down, down between my legs. I held that wrist with one hand and fisted my other hand in the front of his shirt, jumping slightly as he began to stroke me.

"Relax," he said, his lips moving against mine, his lids so heavy that his eyes were barely open. "You have to just relax."

His body language conveyed the same message. Although he was impossibly hard, straining against the material of his pants, his movements were slow, almost lazy. His strokes were gentle, his fingertips just barely brushing up and down along between my lips. I let my eyes roll closed as I felt the slight pressure of one of his fingers making its way into my body. I tensed at first, then remembered his words, and forced myself to relax.

"Good girl," he whispered, kissing my mouth first, then my face, my throat, my collarbone, my chin, my mouth... "Relax, now..." He pulled the finger back out of me and pressed another in alongside it. My fingernails dug into his wrist as I felt a sharp twinge, and he moved his mouth over my ear. "Shhh, it's all right." And, in a moment, it was. My body accustomed itself to the intrusion, and Dominic pushed deeper, until he could go no further. I relaxed, let the clench of my muscles subside under the manipulation of his massage, released the murder grip on his wrist.

He began to move, on a mercifully slow rhythm, in and out of me, back and forth, until there was no resistance from my body whatsoever. His hand was slow and practiced, he knew what he was doing, and yet when I opened my eyes and met his gaze, there was uncertainty there. Vulnerability. I wasn't the only one afraid and unsure.

My thong slipped down over my knees and settled around my ankles as I opened myself further to his touch, kissing him almost incessantly, letting my hand trail up from his wrist, along his forearm and over his shoulder, cupping his face and drawing my thumb gently over the satin skin of his eyelid, letting his lashes tickle me, touching his cheek.

There was no pressure and no pain now, only a jittery nervousness and a full, achy need, and he drew his fingers out of me, rubbing my inner thighs gently for a moment before he sat up. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched him rid himself of the white tank, baring the bronze beauty of his chiseled chest to my eyes. He knelt before me, between my knees, and this time, when I reached to unbuckle his belt, he didn't stop me. With shaking hands, I worked the button through the hole, knowing what was dying to be in the open air, waiting behind that zipper.

I couldn't catch my breath, couldn't make myself do it, and when I met his gaze with a silent plea, he smiled, almost shyly, glancing down at my hands and covering them with his own. He eased my fingers away from his zipper and dragged it down for me, its gentle rasping filling the loaded silence of the bedroom. Dominic brought my hands back up to his body then, to his hips, and guided them into his blue plaid boxing shorts. Together, we slid the boxers down, over his hips, over his thighs, and when his cock sprang free, he issued a growling, grateful groan. My hands were trembling, pinned beneath his on his thighs, and he slid them upward, my fingertips bumping along the ridges of his abs and cresting the curves of his large pecs and finally stopping at his shoulders.

"Hold onto me," he whispered, and I obeyed, closing my eyes as he tugged my panties free of my feet and pushed his khakis the rest of the way down and off. His muscles shifted and moved beneath my hands as he did all of this, and he pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his pants, opening it and withdrawing a small gold square packet. Trojan Magnum.  
><em>Jesus. It's really going to happen.<em>

I was terrified and ecstatic, my mouth dry. I watched him roll the clear condom back over the head of him, down the length of the shaft. I felt dizzy, and my heart was racing, so fast I couldn't count the beats. I tried to focus on his face, but I couldn't seem to keep from staring at It. There was no way in hell It would fit inside of me. And if he managed somehow to get It in, it was going to hurt like mad. Still, I wanted this. I wanted it to be him. I wanted it to be now. And I trusted him. He knew what he was doing. Jesus, that thing was huge...

"Isabel," he said softly, tilting my face up to his with one knuckle beneath my chin. "Keep your eyes on mine." I nodded, could feel that all the color had drained from my face. "You sure about this?" he asked, and I nodded again, without hesitation. "Me too." Dominic pressed his mouth to mine for a lingering moment, not invasive, almost chaste. "It's gonna be all right. I love you." My heart contracted at the way those words tumbled off his tongue and hung in the air, and I found his lips again for a deeper kiss.

"I love you, too."

He eased down on top of me, supporting his weight on one elbow while his other hand drifted down my body to the apex of my thighs, stroking me gently, briefly, slipping his fingers in and out of me a few times.

"Just try to relax," he whispered, taking his cock in his hand and glancing down momentarily to the place where our bodies met. He anchored his eyes on mine, then, and kissed me, and I felt the nudge of his head against the very root of my sensation, felt him stroking me with it, gently, back and forth, wetting himself with the lubrication my body had provided, accustoming me to the feel of it, the thickness and heat of it through the condom. I tightened my grip on his shoulders as I felt him guide his head down from my clit to the entrance to my body. My eyes raped his face, drinking in the intense expression of concentration, his brow furrowed. His features softened, then, and he smiled with a warmth that spread through my body.

"Okay," he said, brushing his lips against mine, and, with those powerful hips, he pushed forward, firm but slow, and my breath caught in my throat, hands clamped on his skin, narrowly resisting the urge to tell him to stop, to drop one hand down and remove the origin of the agony from my body. He paused, distracting me with a kiss and murmuring something against my lips, but I didn't catch whatever it was he said, hearing him as if underwater. He was still then, only about an inch inside of me, until the pain gave way to a steady pulse, and then he pushed further, his hands holding my hips steady, his eyes holding mine until I broke his gaze, squeezing my eyes shut against the pain. It felt as if I were being torn apart, as if he was ripping through my body. He was going very slowly, being very gentle, and yet whatever I had steeled myself for, this was worse. Something inside of me pinched and gave way, and I felt a wet, heated rush, as if I were bleeding.

"Is that supposed to happen?" The voice that left my throat was not my own. It didn't sound like me, and I didn't feel my lips moving. Yet the words had to be mine, and I had to have spoken out loud, because Dominic responded with a nod and a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes." He answered barely above a whisper, yet his voice was rough and rocky, with a combination of concentration and concern and need. He was still, then, again, ceased movement and waited for me to recover, kissing me, letting one hand travel my torso, thumb and forefinger plucking gently at my nipples, then tracing my jaw and cupping my face as the tip of his tongue danced against mine. There was a fiery intensity in his black eyes, as if he had so much to tell me, so much to ask me, and yet was unable to manage a single word. Once again, the searing pain ebbed away to a dull throb. As he pressed forth again, I wondered how he knew my body so well, how he could tell when I was ready for more.

That push was excruciating, and I had to bite back a cry of pain. I felt a nudge deep, deep inside of me, a nudge that I now know was his head bumping against my cervix, and I was completely full of him, no leeway anywhere. My hips, my pubic bone, every muscle surrounding him, everything straining to accommodate, to make more room, but there was no room. I was stretched to every limit, and I squirmed beneath him. It was uncomfortable, the pain acute, but he immobilized me, holding my hips in both hands and keeping me still.

"It's all right," he managed huskily. "I'm in all the way now." His words filled me with reassurance. He was in all the way. The worst was over. And this feeling would fade, just like before. So I was still, and I waited, and gradually, like before, the discomfort lessened, became tolerable, and when I could breathe again, Dominic began to make love to me.

I slid my hands down over his shoulders to hold his upper arms, and he smiled, his teeth brilliantly white against the golden brown of his face. I captured that beautiful mouth with my own and rocked my hips tentatively on his cautious rhythm, his gleaming obsidian eyes gauging my reaction, full of awe and love so raw I could taste it. There was still pain, but I was able to disregard it, distract myself from it with the wonder of this, the beauty of him, and I thanked God silently for giving me another chance at this and giving me the courage to take it.

My hands roamed his back, my fingertips dancing down the valley of his spine, cupping his buttocks almost shyly, feeling the muscles flex beneath my hands, and he was breathing hard now, glistening with sweat. Dominic let his forehead fall to my shoulder, and I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck.

"I love you, Izzie," he hissed, his breath hot on my throat.

"I love you, too."

"I love you," he grunted, and I closed my eyes. There was a tension in him now, an urgency, the in-and-out drag of him along the inside of me still gentle, but firmer, faster. "I love you," he whispered. I opened my mouth to respond again, but the words were lost to both of us as his hips jerked up to meet mine, powerfully, bucking rhythmless through his orgasm, and I just held onto him, sore and satisfied and overwhelmed.

There was blood on him and smeared on my inner thighs, a small, shockingly red spot on the sheets beneath us when he rolled free of me. I put two and two together and realized that the pinching tear and the ensuing bleeding had been the rupture of my hymen, the popping of my cherry, and the realization sent a shiver through me. Dominic was gasping for breath as he pulled me into his arms and held me against the sweatslick wall of rock that was his chest.

I started to cry without really knowing why, not happy and not sad, just completely bewildered. Dominic seemed to understand, because he didn't question my tears, just tightened his hold on me and kissed the top of my head, burying his face in my hair. He kept me close like that for a long while, then eased away from me and peeled the condom free of his now-harmless cock.

He got to his feet beside the bed without speaking and padded barefoot across the bedroom to the adjacent bath, running hot water into the large porcelain tub. I watched Dom as he stood and watched the bathtub fill, a naked god of a man, his entire body creased with muscle, long, strong legs speckled with a covering of coarse black hair. The fact that he had just been a part of me, inside of me, sent a jolt through my torso. I had a sudden urge to pinch myself, to see if I was dreaming, but the throbbing contusion between my legs was convincing enough. This was real.

Dom returned to the bed and scooped me effortlessly into his arms, cradling me against his chest like a small child. He set me down in the water and climbed in behind me, settling with one leg on either side of me, and I leaned back against his chest and closed my eyes as he washed me, his hands moving over my body, painfully gentle, rubbing at my skin everywhere, cleansing away the sticky evidence of what had just happened between my thighs. Finally, his hands stopped, his fingers laced through mine, and he spoke.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I said softly.

"Sit in the tub awhile, you won't be so stiff." His voice moved over me like a living presence, and I nodded.

"Aright."

"You leave tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Stay with me until you go?"

"Yes."

Dom and I ate at the cabana. We hardly said anything at all, but there were volumes spoken in our silence, each of us reliving what had transpired between us late that afternoon. The sky was overcast, so the blackness was thick and absolute, not a star in sight. When we finished, Dominic asked them to box up our uneaten fruit and paid for the food and I left a tip and we returned to our little sanctuary, the first-floor guestroom in a dead, empty house that had once been overflowing with life.

We both stood silently for a moment and stared at the spot of red at the center of the bed, then Dom stepped forward and stripped the sheets off the bed, throwing them into a white heap in a corner and pulling me back down onto the bare mattress with him. He went down on me, his mouth all gentle tugging and licking and lapping, building me up until there was nothing to do but break back down. I came hard and long with my hands splayed on the back of his head. I tried to return the favor, but he just wrapped me in his arms, saying,

"Wait."

So I waited, a few hours more, both of us lying in almost utter silence, and then Dominic undressed me again, sitting back on his heels and feasting for a moment on my naked form. I felt good about my body, felt confident in what he was seeing, and it was a good feeling. He reached then for the Styrofoam box on the nightstand, flipping open the lid with his thumbs and then setting it down on the bed beside me. He lifted out a slice of watermelon and straddled my hips, one knee on either side of me. Bracing himself with one fist next to my ribcage and holding the fruit in his free hand, he leaned over me and took a bite. It was impossibly juicy, almost overripe, and several sweet droplets fell free of his lips and splashed against the unsuspecting flat of my belly. I gasped at the cool impact, but was grinning by the time he took the second bite, this time dribbling the juice down over my breasts. Sitting back on my knees, he took a third bite and let the pale pink liquid drip into the dark, curly hair between my legs.

Returning the watermelon to the box, Dominic proceeded to clean up his mess, dragging his tongue lazily over my body to catch what he had spilled, lapping up the sugary stickiness the watermelon had left there. When finally his mouth reached mine, he tasted of the fruit, and I was aching for him against my better judgment. He was painstakingly gentle, though, as we made love for the second time, my sore, stiff muscles relenting to the irresistible coercion of his practiced ministrations.

It wasn't nearly as difficult as it had been the last time for him to get inside of me, and he was slow and easy as ever, my body warming to this lovemaking idea, my nipples growing hard and dragging across his chest as he moved within me, the temperate stroke of his hand keeping in sync with the stroke of his hips and deftly coaxing an orgasm from my exhausted body. I watched him come, loving the passion and torment in his face as he swallowed his way silently through his release.

In the morning, when I got up to pee, I could scarcely walk. I stood bent over at the side of the bed, my legs refusing to straighten, my inner thighs and my ass knotted beyond belief, my entire body screaming at me, and I panicked.

"Take it easy," Dom said groggily. "Just go slow, you'll be all right." I drew strength and from his words, and, lo and behold, he was right. Again. I managed to stand up and limp to the toilet and back. When I'd hauled myself up into the bed, Dominic ordered me to lie down on my stomach, and with large, dark hands, he rubbed the demons out of me, loosened the clenched muscles, from my neck to my shoulders, down my back, my ass, the insides of my thighs, my calves, my feet.

When he finished, he turned me over and lay down on top of me again, licking and suckling lazily at my nipples, and I felt the reluctant awakening between my legs. We had no condoms left, and he hesitated, asking if it was all right, if I was on something. I nodded and wrapped my hand around the base of him, tugging him toward me, guiding him home. I was as wet as I'd ever been in my life, and all he'd done is drag his tongue back and forth a few times. This time, when he sank down into me, there was only a sharp twinge and a sensation of intense fullness. I pushed on his shoulder, and he rolled us so that I was sitting astride him, staring down into his face. He was so exquisitely beautiful, so unearthly perfect. I was breathless looking at him. For a moment, I didn't move, my hands splayed on his pecs, full of him, just looking at him, memorizing him, knowing that my departure was looming before us, in the not-distant-enough future.

He didn't hurry me, remained perfectly motionless, just watched me watch him, and then, finally, a slow smile spread across my face and I began to roll my hips, his hands holding my hips, just touching, not guiding. I was in control. One hand drifted up off my hip, his palm bumping my breast, and settled with its fingertips splayed across my cheek. He traced my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, staring softly up at me from beneath hooded lids. I groaned. God, he was magnificent.

I wanted to give him everything I had for him, every tempestuous emotion that had torn through me and been stifled since the first time I'd lain eyes on him. I wanted him to know that the love so clearly displayed on his features was not one-sided.

I wanted to show him that I wasn't just a baby, that I'd been dying to be his lover. So I rode him, slowly at first, and then without reservation, bending at the waist and falling forward against him, and he slipped his hands up to cradle my ribcage, pulling my chest to his face, sucking and biting at my nipples. It was a different kind of sex than what we'd had the first two times, and my emotions jigsawed between intimidation, awe, and empowerment. I felt weak in the knees, felt a weary soreness and yet also felt the coiling reaction of my lower belly to the friction of my clit against the base of him, and I could tell by the quickening of his breath that he was close, as well. I ached with exhaustion, but I had to finish this, couldn't stop, was almost there.

We came at the same time, a mutual implosion, my body contracting violently against him, and a soft cry escaped my lips as he lunged up into me. I covered his mouth with mine as we wound down, and he wrapped his arms around me so tightly that it hurt, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I headed out into the kitchen to get a drink of water and noticed for the first time that Dominic had brought the Polaroid camera back with him. It lay, discarded and forgotten, on the counter. I got my water and headed back with it, into the bedroom. He grinned when he saw me with it, and I watched him come at me through the viewfinder, snapping a picture of him. He tried to snatch the camera away from him, but I jerked it out of his reach.

"Don't," I said. "Please?"

I'd taken photography in school, knew how to take a damn good picture, but there was little to nothing that I could do with this camera. I took pictures of his face, his belly, his hands, his feet. I stood with my back to his front and held the camera out before us and snapped a couple pictures of the two of us together, then let him take one just of me. I watched him tear it down to size and slip it into the secret compartment in his wallet and wondered if Letty would eventually find it and know that I had supremely fucked her over. He looked up at me and smiled, chasing the thought from my head, and I returned his smile. My hair was hanging in my eyes, and he walked slowly up to me and brushed it aside, tucking it behind my ear. I glanced down at the wallet he held, at the picture sleeves. I pulled the little slip of photos out of the wallet, and he watched me flip through them.

The first picture was of Letty, sticking out her tongue.

"What is she here, fifteen?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"Sixteen, I think." I flipped to the next shot. Two little kids in a faded department-store wallet print, a little girl with long black hair in barrettes and a red corduroy jumper and a little boy with messy black curls and a big grin in Oshkosh bibs and old-school Nikes. "Me and Mia," he said, before I had to ask, and I smiled softly. "I'm gonna miss her. But she should go to school, long as she can. Make something of herself."

"She'll be able to visit," I said, touching the little boy's face. "You were a gorgeous kid."

"Devilishly handsome," he growled, and waggled his eyebrows, and I cracked up. "Just like my dad. And Mia looks just like Mom did."

"Both of your parents dead now?"

"Yeah," he nodded, the corners of his mouth drooping down out of their smile. "For years now. Mom first, then Dad. So I take care of Mia."

I reached up and touched the side of his face, wishing I could kiss the melancholy stress away.

"Who takes care of you?"

"For now?" He kissed my mouth. "You. After this, I'm on my own again." He shrugged. "Let used to take care of me. We'll see what happens."

"It's looking good again, the two of you," I said, swallowing hard, and he stretched out on the bed.

"We'll see what happens," he repeated.

Dominic fell asleep while I was looking through the Polaroids, and I took one last picture, of him lying there, his beautiful brown face against the white of the pillow. Then, lying down next to him, I let consciousness slip away.

I blinked, bleary-eyed, at the clock on the bedroom wall.

"That the right time, Dom?" I asked, and I felt him nod in response. "My parents are probably having a heart attack."

"One more time," he said, and I didn't think twice before agreeing to his request, soreness be damned.

"One more time."

I think my body'd had more than enough of his intrusion, but we took our time, went as slow and easy as the first time, and once he was all the way into me, he lay there, kissing me, and waited. That fourth round lasted perhaps three and a half minutes. I think he was as tired as I was, as worn out and emotionally exhausted. My body fit him like a glove, holding tight to him, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him as well, pulling him into a full-body embrace. He whispered softly in my ear that he loved me.

Dominic.

Again.

I said goodbye to Dominic again, in the empty living room of that house. There were no tears. I think we were both grateful that we'd been given this opportunity. That things had come together. We just stood, our bodies pressed together, no Letty, no Leon, no eyes on us, able to bid one another farewell properly. Honestly.

"I'll never forget it," he said, and I sighed softly. "Not one second."

"Me either," I sighed.

"And I'll never regret it, either," he continued. "Sometimes right and wrong just isn't written in black and white. Sometimes you just have to do things that are in between."

"I won't regret it. It was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be you."

"I couldn't let you go back and...I couldn't let it be someone else."

"I know. I'm glad you didn't. It was beautiful, Dominic. Thank you."

Dominic shook his head, dragging his lips along my cheek and rocking me slowly back and forth.

"No. Thank you."

I was quiet for a moment, my eyes closed, reliving the past twenty hours or so, seeing his face above me, feeling him inside of me. I'd had as much of him as he could possibly give, and it had been wonderful. I felt strange, older, stronger, wiser. Not just from the sundry minutes I'd spent losing my virginity, but from all the minutes of that long, gorgeous summer amassed. I'd learned so much. I'd _lived_ so much.

I'd loved so much. And now I had to let it go.

I pulled back away from Dominic and pressed my mouth softly to his.

"You're a good man, Dom. And you're gonna do just fine."

His smile was sad.

"You think so?"

"I know so. You were made for it."

His hands traveled down my back to cup my ass, and he hoisted me up for another short kiss, and then another, and finally a deep, sad, goodbye kiss. He set me down and ran his fingers through my hair, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Go, Isabel."

So I went. I went home to my parents, who were frantic and had convinced themselves that I'd run off to Mexico City with the hooligan Leon and would not be heard from again. I endured their panicked reprimand calmly and wondered if they could see, plain as the nose on my face, that I was no longer pure. That the great secret of the world had been revealed to me. That I was a different person entirely than the one who had accompanied them to Mexico in the first place.

They'd packed my things, and the driver had loaded everything into the Lexus already. I stepped into the simple brown sandals they'd saved out for me and tried not to show my limp as I made my way out to the car. I stole a glance back down at Dom's place, but there was only emptiness. He was nowhere in sight. Gone. Gone to me.

The driver was named Jorge Luis Gonzalez. He told us his entire life story in accent-saturated English for the first half of the trip to the airport and spent the second half interrogating us. Getting an air of icy superiority from my parents, the man turned his questions to me.

"Is this your first trip to Mexico, muchacha?"

"No," I said. "I've been here several times."

"Going to come back next year?"

"Maybe." I rubbed my eyes. I was exhausted and I ached all over. "I don't think so."

"Why not? Didn' "t enjoy your stay?"

"Oh, no. That's not it. I'll be away at school. I'm sure I'll be busy." I watched the cars whiz past, the traffic suddenly thick as pea soup as we entered the airport parking lot and Jorge Luis Gonzalez headed slowly toward the front doors. Curbside service.

"So you had a good time then? Liked your summer?"

I swallowed and squinted at him in the rearview mirror. His eyes were old, milky, bluish. I wondered if he could really see well enough to be driving a $60,000.00 car. Yet his gaze was wise, unassuming. It was as if he could see right through me.

"It was strange," I said quietly. My parents were no longer paying any attention to the conversation as Jorge Luis Gonzalez parked before the main doors.

"Many summers are." He licked his flaky bottom lip before continuing. "People come here one way, leave another. Not unusual for strange things to happen, people to become something other than what it is they are, big changes to come, en verano."


	30. Chapter 31

**Epilogue**

Three years and nine months later, I stepped off a plane in Mexico City. I was almost twenty-two, and had just graduated pre-med. In the years following my summer in Puerto Vallarta, there had been five letters, all from Letty. The last one I'd received was postmarked December 20th, and told me that she and Dom had been married, and that they'd had a little boy, and that his name was Anthony. I'd sent back congratulations, and a little blue sleeper and a pair of blue booties and a cotton hat. But I hadn't heard from them again.

I was returning to Mexico City on a whim, not entirely sure why. There was no rationality involved, but I wanted and needed a vacation after four school terms with the nation's best and brightest. I'd had a couple of boyfriends, both long-term, both relationships going nowhere. My parents were getting restless, and still had not given up on the idea of me marrying Jackson Gauthier, with whom I remained friends. But my most recent liaison had been with a professor from a local community college, twenty years my senior, who had conveniently neglected to mention that he was married until two months into the relationship. I'd been dragged along with promises of divorce for a further four months and had left him in tears three weeks prior to running away to Mexico. Let me clarify: He'd been in tears. I'd just been pissed off and fed up.

I'd thought about coming to Mexico City the summer before...and the one before that...and the one before that...But until this moment, until now, I hadn't been trustworthy, on so many levels. I couldn't trust myself to return to the United States. I couldn't trust myself not to break down in tears at the sight of Letty and Dom and Family. I couldn't trust myself to keep my hands off of him.

Until now.

I'd gone straight from a Young Leaders of America luncheon to the airport, so I was wearing a navy business suit, a smart little jacket and a sleeveless white silk blouse and a skirt, my hair in a bun at the nape of my neck. I looked like a lawyer. I looked like my mother.

I'd arranged for someone at the hotel to collect and transport my luggage, and I hailed a taxi. Strange, how after all that time had passed, I still remembered the street name. The addresses. I still remembered everything.

"Aqui?" the cabbie asked, and I nodded. Very little had changed. In fact, I don't think that anything had changed. I paid the cab driver and climbed out, inadvertently forgetting my jacket on the back seat. It was hot, and the navy pumps I wore were less than comfortable. I suppose I could have gone back to the hotel first, changed my clothes, but I couldn't wait any longer.

Strange, how I'd put this off for so long, and in one instant's worth of epiphane on my bedroom floor, the tables had been turned entirely. I'd become that little girl again, the one with the bad clothes and boring life and bickering parents, the one who was so sick of being good, so tired of studying and making small-talk with people she didn't know, would never really know, but were deemed 'peers' because of the comparable size of their trust funds.

The one who found strength in 90 days of insanity with a group of mysterious outlaws on the beach in Puerto Vallarta.

I needed another intermission, a break from reality.

I stood on the sidewalk, looking back and forth between the white house and the blue one three houses down. I smiled a little, softly, sadly, and turned toward the blue house, climbing the four steps of the stoop and raising my fist to knock. I waited a moment, then knocked again, and the door opened before me, my heart in my throat. It was Mia Toretto, exotic and beautiful as ever, with her dark skin and black hair French-braided loosely to her waist, and she held an enormous baby on her hip. His hair was black and stood on end, his cheeks fat, his legs a mass of rolls and blubber, his hands damned near perfectly round. He smiled at me before either of us spoke, revealing two pearly white teeth on the bottom, and I grinned, my eyes already burning with the promise of tears.

"Hello, Mia," I said, tearing my eyes off the baby and turning to her. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, trying to place face with name, and then she gasped.

"Izzie?"

"Yeah," I nodded, accepting her hug, hugging her back, and laughed as the baby made a swipe at my earring. "Who's this?"

"This is Jesse," she said, smiling. "Otherwise known as Gordito." I knew enough Spanish to laugh at that, taking the baby's soft hand in mine and running my thumb over his knuckles.

"Is he yours?"

"Yeah, he's my son. God, I can't believe you're here. Everyone else is down at the other house getting supper ready. I was just about to head over there. Let me just grab the presents." She ducked back inside, and as she turned, the light caught a giant diamond on her ring finger, and its glimmer was almost blinding. So Mia and Brian had tied the knot. I grinned. She re-emerged with a pile of presents wrapped in pink.

"Party?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Minnie's birthday."

"Minnie?"

"Dominica Antonia Toretto," she said. "Dom and Letty's daughter. She's one."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Four months older than Gordo here and twelve pounds lighter."

I laughed and stood behind Mia as she swung open the door to Dom and Letty's place, the pretty white house with flowers in the windowbox. The place looked as if it had been hosed down in Pepto Bismol, pink everywhere. There were streamers, balloons, ribbons, confetti...all pink. I heard a gravelly voice.

"Is that Mia?"

"Yeah, it's me, Dom," Mia said, smiling at me over her shoulder.

I stepped in behind her and surveyed everything and everyone. Leon and Vince were planted in front of a 50-inch television set playing Super Mario Brothers, the original, on a shitty little gray Nintendo set that must have been half as old as I was, and there was a little boy seated between them. He was three or so, and his head was shaved. He wore a white tank-top and baggy jean shorts and plaid boxers and Nike tennis shoes, and I pegged him immediately as Anthony.

I caught glimpses of Letty moving around the kitchen, and there was a little tiny girl toddling around in white patent leather shoes and a puffy pink dress made of chiffon and satin and lace, pink barrettes in her short, shiny black curls. She was carrying a cracker, but not eating it, hesitant little steps back and forth across the living room. She was breathtaking, with Letty's full top lip and wide dark eyes, Dom's curls and long, long eyelashes. Her skin was the color of caramel, and she had tiny gold hoops glinting in her ears, gold bangles on her wrists, a little gold cross on an angel's hair gold chain around her neck. When Mia went into the kitchen, the little girl spotted me and made her way to me out of curiosity. She looked way up at me and cocked her head to one side as if to say, 'Who are you?' Her beauty and innocence took me aback, and when I blinked, tears tumbled down my cheeks. I squatted down so that I was at her level and gave her a watery smile.

"Are you Minnie?" I asked softly, barely above a whisper, and she stared at my face for a moment, probably wondering what the hell I was crying for, and then tottered up and wrapped her tiny arms as far around me as they would reach, resting her head against my chest. "Oh, you're gonna give me a hug? That's so nice." I hugged her back, a fraction of an inch from breaking down completely.

Letty looked up and saw me with her baby.

"Who is that?" I heard her ask Mia. Dominic turned and followed her line of vision.

"That's Isabel Adams," he said. I stood, slowly, as Minnie's attention was distracted by a baby doll.

"Holy shit, you're right." Letty's face broke into a broad grin and she made her way over to me, throwing her arms around me. "Izzie, man," she said, tugging on my blouse. "The clothes again, girl, damn. I thought I fixed that little problem last time." I laughed and returned her hug with equal enthusiasm, and over her shoulder I watched Dominic dry his hands on a dishtowel and come toward us.

Dominic's presence was every bit as bewitching and imposing as I remembered, those smoldering black eyes burning into me, and my mind was suddenly pummeled by a wanton barrage of images, crystal-clear. Dominic drip-drying in nothing but jeans in my kitchen. Dominic crying and holding tight to me, terrified of his future. Dominic laughing. The top of Dominic's head between my thighs. The rise and fall of Dominic's great chest as he slept beside me. Dominic's warm, relaxing smile as he made his way into my body for the first time, the urgency in his 'I love you' just before he came.

"V. Leon," he barked. "Turn around." Both of them did so, Vince first, then Leon, and I peeled myself away from Letty, feeling deeply guilty but still under control and able to play the game.

Leon stood as if in slo-mo, also exactly as I'd remembered him, wearing a white mesh tank and white Dickies and black Docs. His hair was cut short and shiny, as if he'd gelled it, and his green eyes were gleaming as a broad, sweet smile spread across his face.

"Izzie," he grinned, opening his arms, and I walked a bit stiffly into them, then melted against him as he embraced me warmly, roughing me up a little, and Vince wrapped his arms around both of us, smelling of his spicy deodorant and thick Mexican beer. Perhaps feeling safe in the fact that it was a group hug, Dominic joined us, and I found myself folded into a ring of muscles and testosterone.

_My boys_, I thought. Only they weren't. Not anymore. Not ever, really.

When they released me, I wiped at my tear-streaked cheeks and tried to answer the absolute rainstorm of questions they all hit me with. Had I come just to see them? Yes. How long could I stay? Only a couple of days. How was I? Quite well, thanks. Was I done with school? I would start at Harvard in September. Was I seeing anyone? No, not at all.

A timer went off in the kitchen, and Letty and Mia looked up.

"That the chicken?" Mia asked, and Letty nodded. "Need a hand?" Letty nodded again, and Mia held the blob of a baby out to Vince. "Go to Daddy, mister." Vince took Jesse from Mia and I stared, aghast. Vince winked at me.

"Toldja I'd marry 'er."

I laughed out loud.

"Yes, you did. I'd forgotten about that."

The baby echoed my laughter and then promptly threw up on his father.

"Ahh, Jess," Vince cringed, heading for a bathroom down the hall.

"What about you?" I asked, grinning and turning to Leon, patting him soundly on the back. "Take your vows yet?"

"No," he said, his voice quiet and husky. "Still looking."

A few other couples arrived and had dinner, gave presents to little Minnie, let their kids destroy Dom and Letty's house. Letty put on some salsa music, loud, and everyone laughed as Anthony got out in the middle of the living room floor and shook his bon-bon to the best of his abilities with some saucy little senorita who appeared to be six or seven. Dom and Letty danced, putting everyone to shame. They seemed happy together, and I was glad that I wasn't jealous of their happiness. I was proud of them, remembering that awful night when he'd slammed her against the wall, how she'd egged him on and begged him to be violent...And here they were, a family. Two babies, a house, friends, dancing and smiling. The time that I'd shared with Dominic had been beautiful, but he belonged to Letty now, and had every day since I'd left him in that empty house at the resort in Puerto Vallarta.

When he asked me to dance, my hands were clammy and I was nervous, but I was able to keep my emotions and hormones under control, and just loved him. I danced with him, smiling up into his eyes, and remembered it all, and loved him. I saw the same in his face, and when he told me I was still beautiful, I didn't melt into a weeping puddle at his feet, I sucked it up and thanked him.

"So are you," I said. "So are you."

Surprisingly enough, it was the dance with Leon that really got to me. I couldn't get over the feeling that I owed him something, that I should have given him more. The fact that he was still alone hurt me, made me feel like scum, so it was Leon that I wrapped my arms around, it was Leon's chest that I rested my head against, and it was Leon's mouth that I kissed when the music ended. And it was Leon that I invited back to my hotel at the end of the night.

It was strange and yet sublime, the sex that I had with Leon that night. He was slow and gorgeous about it, unsurprisingly good at it, and when it was over, he collapsed atop me and cried. I ran my fingers through his hair and whispered a mantra of apologies that would never be enough.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

He fell asleep there with me, and the next morning, when the two of us climbed out of Leon's Maxima together, Dominic caught my eye and nodded solemnly. He approved. He thought I'd done the right thing, and so did I.

So I spent the remainder of my stay as Leon's girl. I played with Dominic and Letty's kids, got a substantial upper-body workout lugging Jesse around, walked miles and miles down Memory Lane with Team Toretto, and at the end of each day, I returned to the hotel with Leon.

I left knowing I probably would not return. Ever. I'd seen what I'd needed to see, and done what Leon had needed me to do.

Letty told me Dom had been wonderful, and Dom told me that his life had changed and that things were good. He said he'd missed me for a long time, and that he would lie awake next to Letty sometimes and remember what we'd done, bring my face to his mind. But for the most part, he said, he loved Letty, and he'd found happiness in this life. I told him I was glad.

Vince's happiness was written all over him, and Mia was radiant as Mama. To this day I don't know whatever became of Brian, or how V managed to win her heart, but she loved her bear of a man.

Leon told me he'd needed closure, that he'd been stumbling through relationship after relationship and feeling nothing. He said he knew it was stupid, but that he'd always felt like if he could just see me one more time, if he could just have one more day...I told him it wasn't stupid. I told him I totally understood, and I asked him if this visit had given him the closure he'd needed. He said yes.

So it was over. That strange summer of change, when I'd learned who I was, and who I was not, who I loved, and how to love...It was over. It is over.

But I'll never forget it. Not one second.


End file.
